Laundry Day
by smithsbabe65
Summary: Claire tries to do her laundry at Peter and Sylar's. But when Sylar accidentally touches her bedspread, he finds out a lot more than he bargained for. Will he confront the cheerleader about her real feelings? Read and found out. Post BNW. Please R & R!
1. Chapter 1

**Laundry Day**

**Summary: **Claire goes to Peter's apartment one day to do her laundry and runs into Sylar.

Mr. Gray's clairsentience accidentally kicks in when he touches Claire's bedspread causing him to see some very interesting things…

This takes place about two years after the events of a "Brave New World".

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Heroes or any of its characters. That honor belongs to Mr. Kring and NBC. This story was written for the sole purpose to entertain and amuse my loyal readers.

**A/N: **Don't worry, I'm still writing the next chapter to "Death Becomes Her". Consider this one a detour of sorts. This story will probably only be two or three chapters long, I haven't decided yet.

Anyway the genesis of this short fic sprung forth from an email I sent to _JaimiePrufrock, _to whom I dedicate this story_._ We were discussing what the psychological impact of Sylar's clairsentience would be on his life.

We all know that this power enables Gabriel to pick up the echoes of other people's experiences, good and bad. And it's in those visions of the past that he sees _everything _he wishes he could have: family, happiness and love.

As he garners the hidden truths from Claire's belongings, will he finally make that all important human connection? Stay tuned to find out…

**Chapter One**

_SoHo- New York City, New York – June 7, 2012 _

Today was Thursday and on Thursday's Claire Bennet did her laundry at her uncle's place. It wasn't that she didn't have access to the washing facilities on campus or that rundown launderette around the corner of her apartment on 5th and Washington. She rather liked the regular routine she had fallen into of washing her unmentionables at Peter's- even if it entailed trudging her dirty clothes clear across town every week on the city bus.

Nevertheless, by adhering to this little ritual she had managed to kill two birds with one stone. Not only did Claire save some money by not pouring coins into a pay slot, she also got to spend quality time with the only relative she seemed to be getting along with these days.

The only downside to this of course was that she also had to deal with Peter's live-in charity case- the allegedly reformed serial killer known as Gabriel "Sylar" Gray. Aside from ex-watchmaker's unwelcomed presence things between her and her youthful uncle were great.

On the other side of the spectrum however, she and her dad weren't on any speaking terms whatsoever. Claire had written the elder Bennet off a long time ago for his complicit role in making her look like a total _fraud_ in the eyes of the world.

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_Two years ago…_

The night she took her big plunge in Central Park Claire knew that Noah would be less than thrilled with her "coming out" party. And as she stood atop the giant Ferris wheel, she could sense how her dad's watery blue gaze was fixed on her that fateful moment. His steely eyes judged her, begged her not do what she felt needed to be done.

But Claire was resolved to carry out her mission and with that she stepped off the platform falling 197 feet to what would have been a certain death if she didn't possess the ability to heal. After she rose to her feet, her power freshly exposed, she could just make her dad out in the crowd that had gathered around her. The bitter disappointment was evident in his eyes as he watched his life's work get shot to hell by Claire's brazen act.

Noah was indeed devastated by what he perceived to be the ultimate betrayal by his only daughter.

Incensed beyond measure the former Company Man rushed up to Claire and said, "You have no idea what you've done!"

"Yes I do, Dad! I'm sick of hiding and it's time the world knew the truth."

Sorrowfully, Noah Bennet he shook his head as he warned his child how her defiance would cost her dearly. Still, the dutiful father left in him tried his best to keep the story contained. But as the reporters desperately clamored to get her account, sadly for Noah the situation had quickly gotten out of his control.

Thankfully, Peter was on hand and he was able to get Claire out of harm's way while Noah tried his best to dissuade the news crews from harassing his daughter any further.

Yet, by the time the media had dispersed and the curious onlookers left the ruins of the Carnival behind, Noah's greatest fears were already realized when the damning video from someone's camera-phone went viral.

And Claire Bennet became an overnight sensation whether her father liked it or not.

At first, the young college student found the sudden attention daunting yet exhilarating. Claire felt it was the dawn of a new age, a brave new world where all people could be free to be themselves without fear or recriminations. The press had quickly touted her as the leader and staunch defender of the rights of others like her. And Claire vowed to do all she could to live up to the responsibilities suddenly thrust upon her tiny shoulders.

To her dad though, her celebrity status symbolized the beginning of the end. Every time he saw her name in print or her larger-than-life image splashed across a plasma screen it poured salt into an already gaping wound.

There was no way to put the genie back in the bottle…or was there?

Meanwhile, Claire foolishly underestimated her dad in her naïve exuberance. Noah's reputation for being the _Man with_ _the Plan_ should have served as a forewarning of what he was truly capable of. However, daughterly love and misplaced trust clouded her judgment.

How could she have been so stupid, so blind?

She should have known how well he hid his duplicity behind every fatherly smile. His words of encouragement, those heartwarming pep-talks in the days that followed her Great Revelation were all well-crafted deceptions designed to lull Claire into a false sense of security. All the while Noah bided his time as he plotted and schemed to destroy her.

And like a lamb to the slaughter, Claire never saw the end of her newborn normalcy approaching until it was too late.

Nearly three weeks after the events in Central Park she received a call from Peter that immediately turned her entire existence upside-down.

"Hey, Claire you'd better turn on the television," he gravely instructed her.

"Why?" she innocently asked as she rushed around her dorm room trying to get ready for her next class.

"Because the villagers are coming for you with their torches and pitchforks, kid."

Confused by the Frankenstein reference, Claire still did as she was told. Quickly she grabbed the remote off her desk to switch on the 19" flat screen she received as a Christmas present last year. It was one of the last things Nathan had given her before he was brutally murdered.

Still holding the phone to her ear, Claire furrowed her brow as she began to watch what appeared to be a special news bulletin. It only took a few seconds to see her image and name flash across the screen with a caption in big bold red letters that read "HOAX". Seeing that accusatory label chilled her to the bone. With gripping fear, Claire continued to watch as a female news anchor made the following announcement –

"_For those of you just turning in…Claire Bennet, the young woman known to the world as the Invincible Girl, the self-appointed spokesman for so-called specials has been proven to be nothing but a fraud…"_

"**WHAT?**_**"**_ she yelled into the phone as her blood turned to ice. Panic had set in as Claire almost fainted over what she just heard.

"_Wait_," Peter calmly replied. "It gets worse."

The anchor continued with her derogatory broadcast, oblivious to Claire's anger or fear.

"_We have just learned that a young filmmaker by the name of Zachary Dekker has just come forward. _

_Not only is he the owner of a small independent film company named FILMSBYZACH, he also attended high school with Ms. Bennet and has remained a close personal friend."_

"Peter, oh my God! That's a _lie_! I haven't seen Zach since I left Odessa!" Claire professed.

Her concerned uncle mirrored her sentiments in his tone, "I know, Claire. I'm so sorry. Listen, I'm sending someone right now to get you out of there before the angry mob shows up."

No one had to tell her who that "someone" was. Claire was fully aware that Sylar was on his way, flying at super sonic speed to whisk her to safety. Under normal circumstances she would have balked at the idea of Sylar being cast in the role of her would-be rescuer. But she knew she was in deep shit, and now wasn't the time to be choosey.

As she waited for Sylar to show up, Claire continued to watch the horror show unfolding on her television screen with mounting dread.

"_Mr. Dekker joins us now live via satellite from Odessa, Texas to tell us how he assisted Claire Bennet in producing the now infamous 'fall' video by employing the very same special effects techniques used in many of his movies."_

That was it. She couldn't listen to another word. And as she ran to the bathroom to throw up the contents of her breakfast for the very first time in her life, two things became certain:

_One_- her father had gotten to Zach somehow and brainwashed him to lie.

And _two_ – she would never, _ever_ speak to Noah Bennet again as long as she lived.

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Discredited and defamed, Claire ended up right where she started – _almost_.

Because of her fall from grace, anonymity had become a dire necessity. So she dyed her blond locks red, dropped out of Arlington U and hightailed to New York hoping to get lost amongst the multi-cultural throng.

The Petrelli matriarch, Claire later learned, had also had a hand in her granddaughter's downfall. So naturally she cut all ties with Angela, refusing her grandmother's money and her offers of support. Besides, Claire figured that if this was the hand she'd been dealt, then she was determined make it on her own steam. After all, she wasn't penniless or anything. Thanks to the generous bequeathal from Nathan's estate, she had enough money to pay for her education and then some.

As for her other relations, Claire made sure to keep in touch with her mother from time to time via untraceable and disposable pre-paid cell phones. But these days Sandra was busy settling into married life with her new husband, a nice but oddly quiet man that owned a chain of mega pet supply outlets. Thankfully, the former Mrs. Bennet had had the good sense not get hitched with that weirdo, Doug.

Sadly, Claire's younger brother Lyle had enlisted in the army shortly after graduation and was immediately deployed to Afghanistan where he was killed by friendly fire.

And in the case of her adopted father, the only thing Claire asked of the man that raised her was a new identity. It took some arm twisting but once he gave her what she asked for, Claire instructed him never to contact her again. When he begrudgingly agreed to her terms, she walked out of his apartment and his life forever.

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_Present day…_

Now, as Clarisse Peterson, the former Texas cheerleader received a new lease on life. Her falsified but authentic looking identification documents enabled her to quietly enroll at Columbia, where she was now in her second year working toward a degree in criminal psychology. Claire had also procured a job as part-time receptionist in a pediatrician's office and even bagged herself a half-way decent apartment near Washington Square.

Ironically by hiding in plain sight she was able to live a relatively normal existence - even if she was told from time to time that she looked a little like "that crazy Claire girl."

Nevertheless, she attended school, got pretty decent grades and even managed to make a quasi-friend or two. No one was allowed to get too close though out of fear that her ability or identity could be discovered. And under no circumstances did she date…_anyone_.

In fact the last serious relationship she had been in was with Gretchen Berg when she was still at Arlington. And even after the shit had hit the fan with that whole hoax business they tried keep their relationship going. Gretchen had been wonderful at first, she was so supportive of Claire and the decisions she had made about her life. But after months of going through the hardships of a long distance relationship, coupled by the awkward hit and misses in the sexual department, it had become abundantly clear to both girls that Claire's orientation was firmly planted in the hetero camp.

Gretchen had taken mercy on Claire by letting her down gently. Surprisingly, the breakup had come as a great relief to Claire since she always knew deep down that she and Gretch made better friends than lovers. And fortunately for Gretchen, a few weeks later she met a visual arts major named Michele. And as far as Claire knew the two women were still happily together.

After finding herself newly single once more, Claire had tried for a time to go out with members of the opposite sex after she arrived in New York. It took some tough months of kissing frogs before she met what she thought was her prince, a sweet dark-haired boy named Frank Caterino. They'd met one day at the New York Public Library quite by accident when they both reached for the same book, Michel Foulcalt's _Discipline and Punish_. From the moment their fingers brushed together, Claire was smitten. Right after that he had asked her out for a coffee where it didn't take Claire long to discover that Frank was so refreshingly different from all the other boys she had dated. She had found him to be funny, smart as a whip and incredibly handsome. The best part was he didn't ask too many questions about her past.

In a word Frank was _perfect._

And after several months of casually dating and not going past third base, Claire finally decided she was brave enough lose her virginity to him. Frank being a true romantic at heart had thought of everything to make the moment special for her- a candlelit dinner at his place, the right music to set the mood, flowers...the works. Everything had been so wonderful that by the time he led her into the bedroom, Claire was floating on air.

Frank turned out to be considerate lover. And Claire loved the way he had taken his time to worship her body by making love to her slowly, gently. Leisurely he had explored every inch of her until he had her begging for him. Of course Frank was mindful of her maidenhood. And when he finally slipped inside her, he made every effort to make the experience as pleasurable for Claire as it was for him. He was however unaware of her inability to feel pain. Nevertheless she put on a good show for his benefit when he finally broke through her innocence by wincing and arching her back at the precise moment.

However, when they tried to copulate for the second time that night Claire came to a sudden and horrible realization.

Thanks to her traitorous regenerating body her hymen had grown back. And Claire's heart sank like a stone the moment her daunting fate was revealed to her on the blood stained sheets of Frank's bed- she was doomed to be a virgin forever.

Summarily, Claire had bolted from her confused lover's bed, hastily got dressed, and then broke things off with the boy without any explanations. She then ran out of his apartment with hot tears of anguish streaming down her cheeks. Frank of course ran after her, demanding answers. But how could she tell him the truth of who or what she really was? She couldn't…Claire had worked too hard to have the life she had now. And as heartbroken as she was, she couldn't allow a stupid thing as infatuation destroy all she had attained.

So Claire made a pact with herself to abstain from sex altogether until the "right person" came along, whatever the hell that meant. Self-imposed abstinence however did make for a lonely existence but she had to protect herself at all costs.

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Thank God she still had her Uncle Peter to hang around with or her loneliness would have been unbearable. The man had welcomed Claire with open arms when she first arrived in New York, and so had his girlfriend Emma, who was special just like them. Emma and Peter were the only two people that she confided in. Her uncle was her rock and together the three of them became all the family she ever needed. They were Claire's entire support system and she couldn't live her life without them.

And then of course there was Sylar…or _Gabriel_, as he liked to be called now. He was the odd man out. Not quite a member of Claire's trusted inner circle but a constant presence just that same. It was strangely off-putting to see her father's killer living in the same space as her uncle, as they carried on with their abnormal bromance, as if the two men had never been mortal enemies once upon a time.

But Peter, being the well-meaning soul that he was, had told her a thousand times over that "Gabriel" had turned over a new leaf, Claire, however wasn't buying his goody-goody act even for a minute. As her mother always told her, a leopard _never_ changes its spots. Sylar was and will _always_ be a killer.

Lately though, she had started to see another side to her reviled nemesis. Maybe it was due to the kinder, gentler wardrobe he clad himself in these days. The ominous black clothes she remembered had been replaced by cotton tees emblazoned with rock band emblems and skin tight denim jeans that accentuated his manly "assets".

Perhaps it was those dorky glasses he seemed to favor so much or the fact that he smelled so _damned_ good every time she saw him. Of course the fact he always appeared clean-shaven didn't help matters either. The lack of razor stubble seemed to soften his prominent features and made Sylar appear less threatening. Strangely enough though Claire found herself missing his five o'clock shadow.

Whatever it was, it didn't take Claire long to come to the shocking and sudden realization that Sylar was actually _attractive_…even for a psychopath.

And apparently deranged ex-serial killers had manners since he always made it a point to be outwardly polite and respectful towards her whenever she visited. But Claire wasn't fooled...she knew better than most that it would only be a matter of time before he started killing again. She could still see Sylar's predatory nature lurking within his hungry, greedy stare.

And yet despite her misgivings about the man, Claire for some odd reason had found herself often dreaming of that same ravenous stare, deep, dark and filled with longing boring into her own. In her dreams his eyes made her _burn_ all over and caused her to feel things she dared not give voice to. And as each night passed the dreams became more elaborate, vivid, and to her horror, highly erotic. She sometimes dreamed of being back in that suite at the Stanton, only this time Sylar had used his puppeter power to force her down on her knees in front of him where he would unzip his pants and then force Claire to take his cock in her mouth. And at other times she would envision herself being splayed ontop of her mother's coffee table. But instead of taking her ability, Sylar would use TK to strip her naked before ramming his rock hard member into her pussy over and over again.

And every single time Claire would have these dreams she would always wake from them panting and sweaty with her core begging for release. Ashamedly, she would bend to lust's will and allowed her short fingers rub and probe her throbbing folds until she reached a thunderous crescendo with her enemy's name upon her lips.

Claire, unable to explain what was happening to her, was mortified by this chain of events which had become more and more frequent until they were a nightly occurence. But as alluring as her dreams were, she just couldn't bear the thought that she actually wanted Sylar even in the remotest sense. No way!

Masturbatory fantasies were one thing. However, the reality of taking that _monster_ into her bed was another issue entirely, no matter how _enticing_ and _sexy_ said monster looked to her. So Claire decided to strengthen her resolve and not give into temptation. Especially on Thursdays when she had to see the object of her secret and shameful desires.

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So now here she was in front of Peter's door ready to do battle with her sexually frustrated demons.

_You're just here to do your laundry, and nothing else_, Claire admonished herself. _No ogling, no drooling and no sexy daydreams starring the serial killer! _

When she was satisfied that her little pep-talk had done the trick she forged ahead.

"Peter…?" Claire called out. She had already used her key to let herself into the apartment her uncle shared with his ex-nemesis roommate, Gabriel Gray _a.k.a._ Sylar.

As she tried to balance a queen-sized comforter, a jug of liquid detergent, a big bottle of Clorox and a very full laundry bag, Claire could hear the sound of the shower running. Claire usually didn't do this much laundry in a given week. But the sheets and the bed cover needed a good washing to expunge the evidence of her nightly "activities".

When Peter didn't respond to her earlier greeting and Sylar had failed to slither into the room, she assumed that one or the other was in the bathroom lathering up.

"Peter, it's me, Claire," she tried again but was only met with silence save for the cascading noise from the shower.

_Hmmm, I guess he can't hear me with the shower running_, she wondered thoughtfully. _As for his pet psycho, he must have stepped out. Yay me!_

Meanwhile, as Claire continued her inner musings she quickly made herself at home. As she briskly walked through the kitchen on her way to the tiny utility room, she suddenly spied a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies resting on the counter. When her stomach growled at the sight of the sweet confections that's when Claire realized that she hadn't eaten a thing all day.

Dropping her stuff on the pristinely clean linoleum floor she quickly sauntered over to the counter and snatched up two cookies.

_Ooooo, they're still warm, _she appreciatively discovered. And as she greedily took a huge bite out of first one, Claire was suddenly startled by a familiar baritone that creepily said, "_Hello Clarisse_…"

With her heart pounding wildly in her chest and cookie crumbs all down the front of her tank top, Claire whirled around to confront the man that dared to scare her out of her wits…_again_. But when her eyes fell on her uncle's roommate the recriminating words died in her throat.

_Hot damn, _was the only thought her hormonally addled mind could muster.

Hot damn was right. Sylar, it seemed, had snuck up behind her dripping wet and wearing nothing but white bath towel slung low on his hips. Claire's mouth watered at the sight of him as a new kind of hunger quickly took hold.

She said nothing as her eyes roamed approvingly over the well toned muscles his chest and washboard abs. Before today Claire considered Sylar to be easy on the eyes, even he was a little on the skinny side. But now as he stood before her with his dark hair a mess, nearly naked showing off his wet rippling body, and smelling better than any a man had right to, Claire _never_ imagined he'd be so cut and downright _gorgeous_.

And now that she'd been confronted by this half-naked Adonis, Claire couldn't help thinking that the real Sylar made her dream lover pale in comparison

Gabriel, meanwhile, wore an expression of mild amusement as he quickly ascertained that he was the reason for Claire's abrupt speechlessness. "Sorry, I meant _Claire._ I still can't over that name you chose. It's so _Silence of the Lambs_."

Sylar's smart-alecky quip nippily snapped Claire out her sexual trance enabling her to lash out with a witty rejoinder of her own, "You should know, _Hannibal_. You're the one sneaking up behind people and scaring the living daylights out of them!"

He couldn't help chuckling at her as he pointed to the half-eaten cookies still clutched in her hands, "Oh really? Well, if you weren't making all that noise when you came in then I wouldn't have been forced out of the shower to investigate. And its good thing I did too, since I caught you red handed _stealing_ the cookies I baked for the kids down at the burn center at Mt. Sinai's. Peter's supposed to deliver them tonight before he starts his shift."

Suddenly guilt-ridden for pilfering baked goods intended for innocent children, Claire tried to divert attention from her thieving ways by censuring Sylar for his current state of undress, "Whatever! Would you please do the world a favor and put something on? You're scaring the fish!" She was referring of course to Bert and Ernie, the two pet betta fish Peter had won at the St. John's Church Bazaar last month.

Gabriel smiled knowingly at her before he turned around to strut confidently toward his room.

Meanwhile Claire's roving eyes instantaneously glued themselves to his retreating backside as she admired the undulating outline of his firm buttocks scarcely concealed by the terrycloth barrier. Before he was completely out of her sight to Claire's surprise he suddenly shouted back over his shoulder, "You should really stop staring at my ass, Claire. It's not polite."

Shit! She just got caught in the act of rubbernecking Sylar.

_Just fucking peachy, Claire!_

Humiliated beyond belief, Claire's face burned hot with rage. In order to alleviate some of the discomfiture she was feeling she quickly dropped what was left of her cookies then snatched up the first thing at her disposal – the burgundy colored comforter resting on the floor next to her dark blue laundry bag. Then with an angry growl she flung the poorly folded bedcover toward the man that had just slighted her.

"Fuck off!" she yelled as she watched the heavy duvet smack Sylar squarely in the middle of his bare back. Satisfied that the desired target had been hit, Claire Bennet gathered up the rest of her laundry, bleach and detergent and then headed into the utility room.

"Hey!" Gabriel yelled after her. Being battered by someone's dirty bedcover was not his idea of a good time. And he had every intention to give little Miss Claire a taste of her own medicine. But as he turned around to collect rumpled comforter off the floor something wholly unexpected and very unintentional happened the moment his fingers touched soft downy material.

Quite by accident his clairsentience kicked in which immediately gave him insight into Claire's most intimate and guarded moments. Countless sensual images of Claire pleasuring herself on top of the very bedspread he held tightly within his grasp assaulted his senses until he was overwhelmed by them.

His sense of sight could discern every facet with perfect clarity, the rounded shape of her naked breasts with their hardened rosy nipples pointed straight up into the heavens just begging to be suckled. Gabriel groaned at the glorious sight of Claire's sun-kissed skin covered in a glistening sheen of perspiration, as those curvaceous legs hers were spread wide open. Meanwhile his keen sense of hearing picked up the echoes of the not-so-distance-past which revealed to him every gasp and whimper that had escaped those pouty lips as her tiny fingers explored, pinched and rubbed her dripping vagina until…until…she cried out a single name in shattering ecstasy- _HIS_ name.

Dumbfounded and a bit frightened by his discovery, Gabriel quickly tossed the duvet away as if the thing had burned him.

_Oh my fucking God_, Gabriel thought with wide-eyed astonishment. _Claire Bennet wants me!_

_TBC…_

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A/N: Okay, people that was first chapter. Like it, hate it? Please let me know by clicking that little button below that says "review".


	2. Chapter 2

**Laundry Day**

**Summary: **Claire goes to Peter's apartment one day to do her laundry and runs into Sylar.

Mr. Gray's clairsentience accidentally kicks in when he touches Claire's bedspread causing him to see some very interesting things…

This takes place about two years after the events of a "Brave New World".

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Heroes or any of its characters. That honor belongs to Mr. Kring and NBC. This story was written for the sole purpose to entertain and amuse my loyal readers.

**A/N: ** Don't worry, I'm still writing the next chapter to "Death Becomes Her". Consider this one a detour of sorts. This story will probably only be two or three chapters long, I haven't decided yet.

Anyway the genesis of this short fic sprung forth from an email I sent to _JaimiePrufrock, _to whom I dedicate this story_._ We were discussing what the psychological impact of Sylar's clairsentience would have on his life.

We all know that this power enables Gabriel to pick up the echoes of other people's experiences, good and bad. And it's in those visions of the past that he sees _everything _he wishes he could have: family, happiness and love.

As he garners the hidden truths from Claire's belongings, will he finally make that all important human connection? Stay tuned to find out…

**Chapter Two**

_SoHo- New York City, New York – June 7, 2012 _

_Oh my fucking God_, Gabriel thought with wide-eyed astonishment. _Claire Bennet wants me!_

Gabriel had no idea how long he'd been standing there in the middle of living room reliving the sexually charged images he had gleaned from the cheerleader's bedding. The ecstatic look on her face, the toe curling whimpers of pleasure as she sighed his _goddamned_ name seemed to be stuck on a continuous loop playing over and over inside his head.

He could hardly believe it was real. It couldn't be. Claire _hated_ his fucking guts. She had told him so many, many times. And not once did his built-in lie detector go off. Was she that good of a liar or were his powers failing him somehow?

No, that couldn't be it. Gabriel's abilities were more acute than ever since he started utilizing his powers to _save_ lives instead of taking them. And he owed it all to that annoying little Italian Eagle Scout, Peter Petrelli.

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_Two years ago…_

Shortly after the Claire hoax fiasco, Gabriel had been at a loss as to what to do with the rest of his long, long life. He had no desire to return to his abandoned profession of horology. And he certainly didn't want to go back to being a murdering sociopath.

Thankfully Peter, being a kind and understanding friend so far, had given Gabriel a place to crash until he could sort it all out. But Peter had a girlfriend, the sweet deaf woman that Gabriel had rescued from the clutches of Eric Doyle.

It wasn't that he didn't like Emma- on the contrary, he _adored _her. She in turn had been so wonderful to him, always baking him peach pies and doting on Gabriel like a mother hen out of appreciation for what he did for her.

And although Emma didn't technically live with Peter, she practically spent all of her free time at his place. As a result, Gabriel had grown extremely close to his roommate's girl over the last few months. Over a period of time he began to see her as the sister he never had. Gabriel had even learned how to sign so he could better communicate with her.

The dilemma though, as far as he could tell, was that he could see the writing on the wall. And Peter being Peter, he was bound to marry this angel of mercy one day. And when he did where would that leave Gabriel?

He didn't begrudge his friends' happiness, not in the least. But with no hope of ever winning the heart of the girl that _he_ secretly pined for, Gabriel was deathly afraid of being shut out and left alone again. Unfortunately reassurances from both Peter and Emma that he was a part of their little family and always would be did little to alleviate his fears.

Oblivious to his friend's anxieties, Peter had even jokingly promised to name his and Emma's first born after Gabriel.

"Even if it's a girl?" the ex-watchmaker asked with a raised eyebrow.

Peter smiled at him then, "Sure, why not. Gabriella Petrelli has a nice ring to it."

"It does?"

"Well, it's a hell a lot better than _Sylar-rina."_ Peter laughed as he dodged the throw pillow Gabriel had telekinetically lobbed in his direction.

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Taking a page from Claire, Gabriel also wanted a fresh start, an opportunity to right the wrongs of his past and do some good in the world. There was only one problem however. In the eyes of the law he was a wanted man. Gabriel Gray was a still listed as a person of interest in the unresolved murder of his mother, Virginia Gray. And under his _nom de guerre_ he had more to answer for…much more.

How could he start his life over again when his past always came back to haunt him?

He couldn't show his face around Queens and he certainly wasn't welcome within the tightly knit circle of heroes that had resurrected the Company in light of Claire's disgrace.

When Peter first told him about the new and improved Primatech, Gabriel immediately wanted to enlist and offer his services. He was driven by the overwhelming desire to prove that he was more than just a killer and worth his salt. The former watchmaker believed that this would be his chance to finally have a purpose in life. By fighting on the side of right Gabriel could put the many powers he had stolen from others to good use thus honoring the innocents he'd thoughtlessly killed. Maybe then he could achieve the redemption so desperately sought.

However, Peter had cautioned him, "Listen, Gabe. I don't want you to get your hopes up or anything. Just remember that Mom still runs the show and Bennet is her right hand man. So don't expect too much from them or the board members."

Primatech's board of directors was comprised by the familiar but not so friendly faces of Mohinder Suresh, Hiro Nakamura, Matt Parkman, Tracy Strauss and Edgar Stratton, the British speedster Gabriel had tangled with during his short time at the Sullivan's Bros. Carnival.

As Sylar, he had wronged each and every one of them at one time or another. And in some cases he had done so in the most heinous of ways. So it shouldn't have been a surprise that the presiding members of this elite and secret ruling panel still considered him to be _persona non grata_, a social pariah to be shunned and hated.

However, now that he had reclaimed his core identity, Gabriel felt compelled to go before the board and with Peter's support hopefully plead his case that his rehabilitation was real. He had to convince them that his offer to help was indeed genuine.

Peter, despite his misgivings, wanted to help his friend so he contacted his mother to set up the meeting. Angela at first had refused to give audience to the man that had killed her eldest son. But when her remaining child threatened to go to the press to undo the damage that had been done to Claire's reputation, she relented.

"Blackmail, Peter? Well, it looks like you're a Petrelli after all," Gabriel teased the former hospice nurse the next morning as he busied himself making waffles.

"Kiss my ass, Gray. If you don't shut up, I won't help you." Peter groused as reached in the fridge to get the carton of orange juice.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry," Gabriel apologized. As he held his hands up in mock surrender his telekinesis continued to operate the waffle iron behind him.

Peter volleyed back with a knowing smirk, "No you're not. Keep it up and I'll show you how much of a Petrelli I really am."

Upon hearing this Gabriel's jaw dropped and his eyes widened, "You wouldn't…"

"Oh, but I would. You think I don't know about your little crush on Claire? Dude, her face is tattooed on your arm. And all that time we spent behind that wall I saw how you stared at it when you thought I wasn't looking. It was all I can do not to wipe the drool off your chin. Besides, you talk in your sleep."

Gabriel was really panicked now, Peter knew his secret. "What the fuck are you talking about, Petrelli?" he asked stiffly as his heart rate accelerated. He moved toward the table to grip the back of his chair until his knuckles turned white.

Unperturbed by his friend's discomfort, Peter casually sat down at the kitchen table to await his breakfast. Then a moment later when Peter started fluttering his eyelashes and making kissy faces at him, Gabriel's eyes almost bugged out of his head.

"_Oh, Claire…I love you. I miss you Claire,_" Peter mocked with a high-pitched falsetto.

"Shut up, Petrelli," Gabriel warned in a low seething voice as the action of the waffle iron stilled to a halt leaving two golden brown squares floating in mid-air.

But Peter failed to heed his roommate's words of caution. And as he continued to taunt his former enemy Peter was abruptly silenced when the two waffles were roughly shoved into his mouth by invisible hands.

"Breakfast is served," Gabriel announced with an evil looking smirk carved across his lips.

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A few days after the "incident" at breakfast, Gabriel and Peter were headed to the new Primatech headquarters located in the town of Palenville nestled high up in the Catskill Mountains. It had been a relatively short drive from New York City. But Gabriel still found the picturesque scenery to be lovely nonetheless. Fleetingly he wondered if Claire would too.

_Jesus, there I go again!_

His thoughts always seemed to drift toward Claire no matter what he did. Gabriel couldn't help it…he was _crazy_ about the girl.

By his own admission he had always held some level of fascination for the petite blonde. After all she had been his Holy Grail for so long- the unattainable prize that had always seemed out of his reach. Nevertheless, when he acquired her ability at last, that event should have been the pinnacle of his quest since it negated the need to pursue her any further.

And yet when he tried to move on from that day, Gabriel couldn't bring himself to forget her like he had his other victims. Claire was different from anyone else had ever encountered, she was _special_. He had seen _exactly _how extraordinary she was, her brain had revealed it all.

She was destined to live _forever_ and now so was he.

Their lives had always been interconnected somehow. But now they were bound to each other for eternity.

Gabriel had tried to make her see just that when he toyed with her at the Stanton. But Claire had made it perfectly clear that she wanted no part of him. There was certainly no disguising the look of repulsion in her eyes when he had "proposed" to her. He didn't mean it of course. There no way he was serious about walking down the aisle with anyone just yet. Gabriel just liked messing with her.

_But_…he did want her to see the _possibilities_ of a future together later down the road, whenever she'd get over her need to kill him. Gabriel tried his best to appeal to her logic and when that didn't work, he executed her biological father out of spite.

In hindsight, murdering Nathan may not have been the best way to ingratiate himself with the woman he was enamored with. He had definitely screwed the pooch on that one and dashed all hopes of ever being with Claire.

Matters only got worse when he was forced to masquerade as the very man he had slaughtered. For months he lived as Senator Nathan Petrelli. And because the prick he was impersonating happened to be Claire's birth father, it had brought him in close proximity to her.

Now that he's had time to think about it, all those father/daughter lunches had always left him feeling thoroughly confused. Every time she hugged him he had felt inexplicably _aroused_ which further exacerbated his conflicted emotions. It got to the point that he refused to see her for fear that he might make an inappropriate advance toward his "daughter".

Of course once his physical body had been reunited with his consciousness, Gabriel was tremendously relieved to know that "Nathan's" improper reactions in Claire's presence were due to _his _residual attraction for the girl and not her father's.

However, when he decided to exact his revenge on those that had wronged him, he had to shelve his feelings for Claire. Gabriel busied himself instead with matters of revenge. And he was determined to make them all pay for what they did to him- Bennet, Mama Petrelli and anyone else that had been remotely involved in the biggest mind-fuck of the century.

But as much as he would have liked to have seen the streets of New York run red with his enemies' blood, Gabriel Gray couldn't bring himself to kill a single person. The Hunger for some odd reason had been neutered. So he went off to see that slime-ball, Samuel Sullivan, where he discovered that his answers actually rested with the one person he held above all others.

_Claire_, it was always Claire. All the paths he had traveled on during his twisted life seemed to constantly lead back to her.

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When he and Peter had finally arrived at Primatech, they were quickly ushered upstairs to the main conference room where Gabriel's fate would be decided.

Every member of the board sat there in stony silence staring daggers at Gabriel as he poured his heart out to them. He was mindful of their shared hate and their reasons behind it. Nonetheless he apologized to each and every one of them for his indiscretions and for the harm he had caused to so many others.

"With my powers I can be an _asset_ to this Company. I just want a chance to make up for things I've done," he declared earnestly.

But when his heartfelt proposal was unanimously rejected, Gabriel was crushed.

_Now what am I going to do, _he dejectedly thought.

The situation looked hopeless at best and his prospects were grim. He had no home of his own, no job, no family or friends to speak of other than Peter and Emma. And with a rap sheet as long as his arm, who would hire a former watchmaker wanted for murder during one of the worst recessions in decades?

_No one with a lick of sense_, Gabriel told himself.

To make matters even shittier the girl that he was totally in love with treated him like a communicable disease.

_There's another way out you know_…whispered all too familiar voice. Immediately Gabriel closed his eyes refusing to acknowledge the Hunger's reptilian hiss as it slowly coiled around his brain stem.

Foolishly, he had convinced himself that the dreaded detested thing had been banished from him during those terrible years spent in isolation with Peter. Even after he and Peter had escaped from Parkman's mental prison the Hunger had remained inactive for months. And there had been no inkling of its return.

But now out of nowhere it had reared its ugly head to tempt Gabriel when he was at his most vulnerable. His ears pricked with the sound of the insistent scratching of its mighty talons as it tried to claw its way back into Gabriel's mind and heart. Its seductive cadence quickly acted as a soothing balm numbing Gabriel from all the pain he was feeling. It would have been so easy to give in to its siren call as its tentacles starting to envelop him in a constricting embrace.

But then a vision of that blonde little cheerleader swam before his eyes obliterating any desire to turn his life over to the darkness once again.

"No!" Gabriel shouted in a clear loud voice as he gripped the steering wheel. He and Peter were currently seated in their white Nissan on their way back into the city after their abysmal visit at the Company.

He had managed to startle a very drowsy Peter who had been sitting next to him in the passenger's seat.

"Gabe, what the _hell_?"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to freak you out," Gabriel meekly apologized for his outburst.

After blinking his sleep filled eyes awake, Peter Petrelli began to scrutinize his friend. He could see the tension in his hunched shoulders and the pinched expression on his pale face.

"Hey, are you alright, dude?"

Following a moment of awkward silence, Gabriel Gray finally replied, "No, I'm not. Pete what am I going to do? You heard the board. To them I'm nothing but a _monster_, a fucking freak!

I can't even get the woman I care about to look at me as a man. She sees what they see. I'm no good to anyone, I never have been. I might as well throw myself in the Hudson right now and rid the world of me."

Gabriel's words of anguish really struck a cord with Peter. He'd been there too at one time or another dangling at the end of his rope, feeling as if all hope was lost. But he had always had Nathan to pull him back up and encourage him to keep fighting the good fight.

The time had come for Peter to do the same for the lost man that sat beside him. Gabriel, despite their complicated history, had become like a brother for him. And although he would never fill the void that Nathan had left behind, Peter's former adversary came pretty close.

"Pull over, Gabe."

"What?"

"I said pull the _fuck_ over!" Peter forcibly commanded.

Gabriel immediately pulled the vehicle off to the shoulder of the road, and then shut the engine off. The moment he turned the key in the ignition, Peter pounced on him grabbing the front of Gabriel's jacket.

"Now you listen up, you asshole. I don't want to hear another word about you throwing yourself in the river or trying to off yourself in any other way. Besides, you can't _die _you jerk! So all this wallowing in self-pity crap stops now!"

"B-but Pete…"

Angered by his friend's interruption, Peter shook him as he tried to get his point across, "But, Pete nothing! I already lost one brother. And I'll be damned if I lose another one! You can't give up, I won't let you! If you're going to let those _pinheads_ at the Company define who you are, then you're not the man I thought you were.

Where's the resourceful guy that always two steps ahead of everyone else, huh? The one that never knew the meaning of the word 'quit'? C'mon Gabe, don't give up on yourself. I'll do whatever it takes to help you, but you have to meet me half way. We'll think of something, okay?"

After a beat Gabriel turned a grateful tear-filled gaze toward his stubborn but well-meaning friend. "Okay, Peter…you win. But can you get off of me now?"

"Why, am I turning you on?" Peter suddenly jested.

"Petrelli, you've got about two seconds to get your sorry _wop_ ass off me before I scalp you!" Gabriel growled angrily.

"Okay, sorry. Sheesh, you're a grouch when you're not gettin' any." Peter retreated to his side of the front seat while he watched Gabriel start the car again and then drive off the shoulder before merging into traffic.

"Screw you Peter. Just because you're getting laid on a regular basis doesn't give you license to talk about my love life."

"When it involves my niece, it does. Are you ever going to admit that you're in love with Claire?"

Gabriel absolutely refused to answer _that_ question. He barely acknowledged the feelings of longing and affection he secretly harbored for the golden haired spitfire. And he sure as hell wasn't going to divulge them to her nosy uncle- at least not yet.

"I'll make you a deal, Peter. If you help me become a respectable member of society I may enlighten you to certain _truths_…"

Peter grinned from ear to ear just then. As far as he was concerned, Gabriel just gave him an all and out confession. "You got yourself a deal. Besides I can't have my only niece date some unemployed loser, now can I?"

Gabriel almost crashed into the car in front him when he heard Peter's last comment. "Are you saying what I think you're saying, Petrelli?"

Peter just smiled as he cryptically said, "You take it anyway you want."

It was Gabriel's turn to beam like the love sick fool that he was. Peter Petrelli had just given Gabriel Gray consent to pursue his dead brother's daughter – in so many words. And he couldn't be happier.

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_Six months later…_

True to his word, Peter Petrelli did all he could to help his friend turn his life around. The first thing he did was go back to his mother and demand that Gabriel's criminal record be expunged. It had been quite an undertaking to persuade the Company's _grande dame_ to let go of her qualms regarding Gabriel Gray. But she soon found out just how far her youngest child was willing stick his neck out for the man that had murdered his brother.

Angela finally gave in to his demands as long as Peter promised never to bring Gabriel around her or anyone else associated with the Company.

Next, Peter and Emma had talked Gabriel into taking the paramedics' course, which Gabriel aced with flying colors. Once he passed the state board exam he was then assigned to work out of the same hospital as his friends. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out that Peter had pulled some strings to make that happen. And for that Gabriel was extremely grateful.

Gabriel soon proved that he was really suited for this type of work. And once he was operating in the field, it didn't take him long to realize just how well his intuitive aptitude worked in ascertaining the cause of a patient's trauma and the best method of treatment. In fact he was so effective in the administration of emergency medical aid that his fellow paramedics had christened him the "Miracle Worker". Of course no one knew of the occasional use his healing blood in the most severe cases except for Peter.

But he didn't mind being discreet when it came to his abilities. The only thing that mattered to Gabriel now was the feeling of validation he received each time he looked into the appreciative eyes of the people he helped.

As for things on the Claire front – Both Peter and Emma (who was now privy to Gabriel's unrequited love thanks to Pete's big mouth) had tried to put in a good word for him whenever she visited the apartment. But the cheerleader's heart seemed to be made ice when it came to him. She barely said two words to Gabriel and could hardly tolerate his presence which made things rather awkward between them.

But Peter had promised to chip away at his niece's hardened view point like he and Gabriel had that damned wall- one day at a time.

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_Present day…_

Bewildered, Gabriel was still trying to process the contradictory information that he just recently discerned.

_How could she keep something this major to herself? _He wondered with astonishment.

Thank God the towel was still draped around his hips. But it barely did anything to obscure the rock-hard erection that had emerged as a direct result of his psychic voyeurism.

And that's how Peter found him just a couple of minutes later. As the young paramedic entered his apartment he immediately took in the peculiar sight of his friend standing as still as a semi-nude statue, his bare feet in a puddle water. The far away look in Gabriel's eyes gave him the appearance of being in the grips of a catatonic state.

Alarmed for his roommate, Peter slowly approached the rehabilitated killer, taking gradual cautious steps in a concerted effort not to startle him.

_No sudden moves, no sudden moves_, Peter kept repeating this mantra to himself. There was no question that Peter Petrelli trusted Gabriel Gray with his life. He proved that everyday as they worked side by side together as paramedics.

But Peter was nobody's fool. He was fully aware that despite his reformations, Gabe was still at instinctual creature at heart. And he was honed to perceive any unexpected movement as a potential threat.

"Gabe?" he asked calmly. "What's going on buddy?

Gabriel had barely registered the sound of Peter's voice. "Huh?" he dumbly uttered still lost in his own thoughts.

Meanwhile Peter had moved closer to his friend to see if he had been harmed in anyway until the sight of a certain telltale protuberance made him stop dead in his tracks.

"What the fuck is THAT?" Peter cried out as he pointed an accusing finger at the front of Gabriel's towel. "Jesus, Gabe! What the fuck are doing walking around the apartment with a _boner_? And in front of the fish too, what's wrong with you? You're bound to traumatize them! " Peter then walked over to the small fishbowl to check on his precious aquatic pets.

Peter's indignant shout quickly snapped Gabriel out of his stupor which in turn caused Claire to rush out of the utility room to investigate the calamity.

"Hey Peter, what's going on?" Claire asked her uncle with concern. When Peter realized that his niece had been in the apartment he suddenly understood the reason behind Gabriel's present state of "excitement".

In the interim Gabriel, who was dying of embarrassment, swiftly swung his hands down and then clapped them over the swell of his manhood in order to conceal it from Claire. But it was too late. Not only had she seen it, unbeknownst to him, she was also thoroughly impressed by its length and girth.

"Uh…I think I'm going to get dressed now," he muttered to no one in particular as he began to scuttle away toward the direction of his room.

"Yeah, you do that! I'm sure that Bert and Ernie would appreciate some modesty around here!" Peter yelled after his mortified roommate as he stood protectively in front of the fishbowl.

When Gabriel finally reached the sanctuary of his bedroom, he quickly shut the door and locked it behind him. As he tried to calm down, his analytical mind quickly sifted through the chaos until three problems emerged to the forefront that needed his _immediate_ attention.

_One_- He needed to alleviate the throbbing ache of his engorged member before he could make his next move.

_Two_- He had to get rid of Peter somehow.

_Three_ – Lastly, after he rubbed one out, got dressed and kicked his roommate out their shared domicile, Gabriel was going to corner that little _lying_ cheerleader and get her to fess up if it was the last thing he did.

Now that his mission had been mapped out for him, Gabriel tore off the towel. Fully naked and still hard as trigonometry, he swiftly stalked over to the night stand grabbed the bottle of lotion and a box of Kleenex. Afterward, he lay down on his bed, closed his eyes, conjured up those visions of Claire and got right to work on solving problem number one.

_TBC…_

A/N: Okay, my darlings. That was chapter two. I hope that you enjoyed my Gabriel-centric spin on things. If you did, please kindly let me know by clicking the little button that says "review".

Oh, I also wanted to let my loyal readers know that I'll try to get the third chapter up before I leave on my week-long Caribbean cruise next week. I'll be gone from the 28th to the 4th. As always I appreciate every single review I've received for this story. You've been generous and wonderful with your comments. Thank you all!


	3. Chapter 3

**Laundry Day**

Summary: Claire goes to Peter's apartment one day to do her laundry and runs into Sylar.

Mr. Gray's clairsentience accidentally kicks in when he touches Claire's bedspread causing him to see some very interesting things…

This takes place about two years after the events of a "Brave New World".

Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or any of its characters. That honor belongs to Mr. Kring and NBC. This story was written for the sole purpose to entertain and amuse my loyal readers.

A/N: Well, I'm finally back from my cruise and it was awesome! I'm now tan, fit and ready to dive back into this story.

This is the second to the last chapter folks. Not much Sylaire I'm afraid in this one. There's lots of Peter and Claire interaction. But their enlightening conversation will set up the last chapter nicely.

For those of you that were kind enough to ask…yes, Bert and Ernie will make another cameo. I'm so glad the fish are getting so much love. I'll have to figure out a way to incorporate them into my other stories.

And speaking of which- I wish to address the rabid fan-girls that have been nipping at my heels for a continuation of "Strange New World". Yes, I will finish it. Will it be anytime soon? Probably not, since I have to get back to "Death Becomes Her". You may now begin the stoning…

**Chapter Three**

_SoHo- New York City, New York – June 7, 2012 _

"Okay, Claire. You mind explaining the freak show I just walked in on in here?" A riled Peter Petrelli had rounded on his niece demanding answers.

Meanwhile an astonished Claire Bennet, who was still staring out at the empty space that Gabriel Gray had occupied just moments before, managed to faintly reply, "I don't know what you mean."

Confused by the young woman's dazed expression, the EMT worker's hazel eyes narrowed a bit. Something weird was going on and Peter was determined to get to the bottom of the mystery. Slowly he moved away from the fish bowl where to the two indigo and crimson colored bettas continued to swim happily, completely oblivious of the humans' troubles.

Peter was still trying to make sense of the spectacle of finding his best friend wearing nothing but a towel sporting some serious wood in front of his scaly pets. As he inched closer to Claire he suddenly noticed her skimpy attire and was alarmed by what his brother's only daughter was wearing.

Her torso was adorned with a fiery red tank top that almost matched the color of her dyed hair which was currently pulled back from her face by a scrunchy. The insubstantial top had the thinnest spaghetti straps he had ever seen. And the material must have had some gravity defying properties since it managed to support her bra-less breasts. For the life of him though, Peter just couldn't figure out how that was happening. And maybe he didn't want to know.

_Jesus Christ, are those her nipples?_

When he saw the two erect nodules actually poking out through the flimsy garment, Peter was naturally horrified. Matters were made much worse when his disapproving gaze took in the skin-tight denim shorts that hugged the womanly curves of her hips and ass. The damned things were so short they made her legs appear much longer than they were.

That's when it finally dawned him. No wonder Gabriel was walking around the apartment like a horny stag looking for someone to mount. With Claire prancing about like the poor guy's wet dream come true, Peter was surprised (and yet very relieved) that he didn't walk in to view a full-on seduction.

But the million dollar question of the day was exactly who was seducing who around here? Was it Gabriel? Knowing his friend the way he did, Peter quickly dismissed the notion. As much as Gabriel wanted Claire, the man that Peter had come to know wouldn't disrespect his niece like that…_ever_. Gabe loved Claire beyond reason and would _never _force himself on her.

Peter was also aware of the deep esteem his friend held for him. He was more than certain that former watchmaker from Queens would never dream of defiling the sanctity of their home with a senseless act of lust.

Then what about Claire? Did she purposefully don that scant little outfit with the explicit intent to entice his lovelorn roomie? Did it involve a devious plot to parade herself around the apartment like some low-rent trollop until she caused Gabe's untimely demise by giving him a massive coronary?

And how in the hell did she step out of her door this morning wearing next to nothing? Did she not watch the news? Or did Claire forget that she lived in the most dangerous metropolitan area in the country? And how did she manage to survive the bus ride clear across town without every pervert in the city trying to maul her?

If Bennet were still around, the man with the horned rimmed glasses would have shot every single guy that dared to look in her direction. And if Nathan were still alive, he would have certainly made his daughter put on something more conservative looking- like a burka or a poncho.

The memory of his departed brother immediately fueled Peter's moral outrage. He was Claire's uncle for God's sake, which made him by default Nathan's representative here on earth. And Peter had sworn a solemn oath to his older brother protect his daughter even if it was from herself and her poor fashion sense.

Flipping a mental switch to full-blown overprotective mode, Peter hastily shrugged off his navy blue paramedic's jacket. He then draped it over his scantily clad niece's shoulders in an effort to conceal her from his roommate's lustful gaze and the unknown number of random sickos that might have been peeking into his apartment window at that given moment.

Shocked by her uncle's attempt to smother her with his jacket, Claire tried to shove him off of her as she yelled out, "Peter, what the _HELL_ is wrong with you?" Her green eyes blazed with indignant fury as she stared her uncle down.

Pulling the blue windbreaker even tighter around her, a wild-eyed Peter answered his niece with a resentful tone of his own. "What? You've got some nerve asking me that question when it's _your_ ass hanging out of those shorts!"

Peter's offhanded comment swiftly ratcheted up Claire's fury-o-meter to its highest notch. As she squared her shoulders the jacket slipped to the hardwood floor below her sandal encased feet. As the formerly blonde spitfire prepared to stand toe to toe with her idiot uncle, she balled up her fists.

"Excuse me?" she asked him with a dangerous growl.

"You heard me! Why are you dressed like that?"

"Like what?" Claire fired back as her nails dug into the palms of her hands leaving half-moon shaped cuts that quickly healed.

Waving a dismissive hand at her, Peter frowned with disgust as he replied, "You know…like some video vixen?"

The very idea of straight-laced Peter using such an urban term to describe her appearance instantly doused the flames of her ire. Uncurling her fist she managed a little laugh as she questioned him, "Video vixen? Holy crap, somebody's been watching way too much BET. And besides, what's wrong with the way I look?"

"First of all, I watch VH1. I only watch BET when re-runs of Soul Train are on," Peter clarified.

"_Soul Train_? Wow, Pete I didn't know you were so hip," Claire chuckled gleefully.

Angered at having revealed his Saturday afternoon guilty pleasure to the niece he was presently chastising, Peter returned to the original topic of conversation.

"Never mind that- now, as I was saying…you want to know what's wrong with what you've got on? It's _EVERYTHING!_ Look at yourself, Claire. You're wearing these teeny tiny shorts that look like underwear. And don't even get me started on that scrap of cloth you call a top."

Placing her hands on her hips, Claire stared her uncle straight in the eye as she fumed, "You're kidding me, right? In case you've forgotten it's the beginning of another miserable New York summer. And I'm wearing this because it's hot as balls out there and I wanted to be comfortable.

I wore less than this when we went to the beach at Coney Island last year and you didn't say a word! In fact Emma's bikini was even skimpier than mine and I didn't see you trying to cover her up. So why are you freaking out all of a sudden?"

Clenching his jaw in anger, Peter squinted his eyes as he prepared to challenge the girl in front of him. "Oh, like you don't know."

Claire by this time was beyond exasperated. She was tired of trying to figure what Peter's malfunction was and why he was acting like he was from Bizarro World.

Throwing her hands up in frustration she admitted defeat, "Okay, you win, I give up. Why don't you just tell me what's got you so upset so we can both get on with our lives?"

"Fine, but not here," the paramedic somberly proclaimed.

After casting a quick glance at Gabriel's bedroom door, Peter quietly motioned to Claire to join him in the kitchen, which she did. Leaning against the counter near the stove, she immediately crossed her arms over her chest. Her left foot meanwhile started madly tapping the floor as she waited impatiently for her uncle to give her an explanation for his weirdo behavior.

But when she saw Peter suddenly turn on the faucet to the kitchen sink to let the water run full blast, her eyebrows shot up to almost touch her hairline.

"What the…?" Claire began to inquire.

When Peter turned back around to face her he lowered his voice to a near whisper as he began to spell out his actions, "Sorry can't be too careful. The walls in this place have ears if you know what I mean."

Claire silently nodded as she suddenly understood the significance of Peter's statement. The running water was an attempt to muffle their impending conversation from a certain roommate that had just reacquired super hearing.

"This isn't about me, is it? This is about _Sylar_," Claire whispered back in accusation.

At first, Peter refused to answer her as he allowed his head to flop down as his shoulders slumped in defeat. Then with a tired sigh he dragged his fingers through his droopy bangs combing the dark brown locks away from his face. Peter then lifted his worried gaze to look at the expectant girl across from him in the tiny kitchen.

"Claire, I don't know how to say this to you…," he started to say.

Anxious of what his answer might be Claire didn't allow Peter to finish his sentence. "Oh God, you're afraid he's going to attack me, aren't you? That's what this is all about! See? I told you he couldn't be trusted," she vindicated with a self-righteous murmur.

Peter was quickly angered by Claire's one-track mind when it came to his friend. When was she going to realize that the man had _changed_? The annoyed empath had planned to ease Claire into the truth. But since she continued to be so pigheaded and narrow-minded he was forced abruptly reveal the secret he had carried with him for so many years.

"He's in love with you, Claire!" Peter Petrelli harshly blurted out. There, he said it- _finally_.

_Sorry, buddy_, he quickly offered up a mental apology to his friend. Thank God Gabe didn't have the power of telepathy yet or he would have marched out here to find out exactly what Peter was sorry for.

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The last thing that Claire had expected to hear was that the man she had sworn to hate for all of eternity (and yet secretly lusted after) was in love with her.

A tremendous sense of panic quickly set in as she tried to make sense of Peter's incredible disclosure.

_This isn't happening. I've somehow fallen asleep and this is all a bad dream. Come on alarm clock, don't fail me now. Wake me up from this fucked up nightmare, _Claire's mind screamed at her as she fought desperately to hold on the frayed edges of her sanity.

Her voice faltered for a bit until she finally managed to croak out the next allegation, "Y-you're l-lying."

Peter's lips quirked up in that signature crooked little smile of his in a feeble attempt to put her at ease.

"Claire, I'm afraid it's true," he reiterated the facts as gently as he could. "Gabe's been in love you for a very long time even though he knows that you hate him."

"H-how do you know?" she asked shakily as her bottom lip quivered. Claire knew that she was on the verge of losing her composure at any minute.

Her empathetic uncle soothingly placed his hands on her shoulders before he drew Claire into a brief yet comforting hug. When he pulled back a bit to see her face he was slightly taken aback by the emerald orbs staring back at him glistening with unshed tears.

"When we were trapped in Parkman's nightmare world, I kind of had a suspicion he had a thing for you. I have to admit though that back then the very thought of Gabe crushing on my teenaged niece downright sickened me. In fact the first time I caught him staring at that tattoo on his arm, I punched him out breaking his nose…_twice_."

"You did?" Claire questioned with wide-eyed astonishment.

"Damn straight I did. I was still pissed him for Nathan and for all the other horrible things the bastard had done. But as the weeks behind that fucking wall turned into months and then stretched on into years I witnessed his conversion from a brutal serial killer to the kind and considerate person I'm now proud to call my friend.

Wanting to refute his claims, Claire started to protest but Peter hastily interjected, "I know, I know, you've heard it all before on how he came out of that experience a changed man. But there is still one important thing I didn't tell you that I think you should know."

The anticipation was killing her. Claire was going to hyperventilate, she could feel it in the way her heart was trying to beat itself right out her chest as her constricting lungs fought to take in as much oxygen as possible.

Breathlessly she asked, "What is it, Peter?"

"_You_ were the reason behind his transformation, Claire. He wanted, no, _needed_ to be a better man for _you_."

The levy that had been holding her tears back finally shattered as Claire broke down in her uncle's arms. "That's _impossible_. He's a monster, Peter. He doesn't love anyone because he's not capable of it!"

Peter consoled her as best he could as he rubbed a pattern of circles up and down her back. "Claire, you're wrong about that and so was I. I learned that the man you still call Sylar possesses a great capacity to love. But he never got the chance to express those feelings with anyone because of the way he was raised. He grew up never knowing what it was like to be loved and accepted for exactly who and what he is."

"Don't give me the _abuse-excuse_. A lot of kids are neglected and beaten. That doesn't mean they all grow up to be serial killers," Claire sobbed miserably.

Peter nodded in agreement, "You're right. But not everyone went through what Gabriel did. Do you know that when he was a little boy he was sold to his aunt and uncle by his very own father?"

Claire's eyes, which were red and puffy one moment and then normal the next, opened wide with shock, "What? I never knew that."

Peter bobbed his head in affirmation, "Well, it's true. He was sold like a piece property and then when he tried to run after his dad, Gabe got there just in time to see the son-of-a-bitch slaughter his mother right in front him."

In that moment Claire's heart broke. No one deserved to have that happen to them, not even Sylar. She never thought that the day would ever come when she would even feel a drop of sympathy for the man that had murdered her biological parents. But here she was… actually feeling sorry for the abandoned and orphaned child her nemesis had been so long ago.

If circumstances had been different his story could have easily been hers. And if she really thought about it almost was. Claire too had been abandoned by a father that refused to acknowledge her existence due to his political aspirations.

And Meredith may have given birth to her, but the pyrokenetic had always been a selfish woman. Deep down Claire had always known this.

_What kind of mother would think to set her own apartment on fire to escape Company agents without any regard to her infant child? _

Claire was lucky though that she had found her way to Sandra Bennet. The woman may have had her quirks but her heart was as big as Texas.

As for Noah Bennet, her adoptive father, he may have lied to her all of his life, killed in her name, and downright ruined her credibility. But at the end of the day he had done it all out of a deep and abiding love for her.

"Peter, tell me more, tell me _everything_." Suddenly Claire was thirsty for knowledge. And she wanted to immerse herself in all things that pertained to Sylar.

Her uncle smirked at her. Peter was inwardly pleased that she was finally coming around.

"I thought you'd never ask."

_SCSCSCSCSCSC_

Claire listened to everything that Peter had to say about his friend's past with rapt attention. She learned how as Gabriel got older, he had somehow suppressed the memory of his mother's death. Eventually he grew up believing that his Aunt Virginia was his real mom. Sadly for the boy, the woman turned out to be a mentally unstable person with a strong zealous religious streak.

Gabriel's Uncle Martin had been no better, by Peter's account. He was a cold and distant man who had abandoned the little boy he had purchased as a commodity the first chance he got. Claire was shocked to learn how Martin Gray stepped out one night to buy a pack of cigarettes and never came back.

Claire shuddered as she pictured a young and vulnerable Gabriel being left alone to be raised by the feeble-minded, infantile Virginia. She was a cruel and vile woman devoid of any normal maternal instincts who systematically projected her own insecurities and fears onto her son. Peter let Claire know in no uncertain terms that he strongly believed that Virginia Gray's constant berating of Gabriel to do better, _be_ better may have been a major contributing factor to the emergence of the persona of Sylar.

But no matter what Gabriel did to try to appease that emotional black hole that claimed to be his mother and finally demonstrate how special he could be, his efforts had been never enough to garner Virginia's affections.

Peter went onto describe young Gabriel's harrowing school days. From kindergarten through his senior year of high school he had remained friendless with only his books and his father's clocks for comfort.

Worse still, due to their financial situation, his mother insisted on buying all of his clothes at thrift shops and rummage stores. As a result Gabriel was always out of step with the fashion trends of his peers. His dowdy and nerdy appearance had made him the favorite target of bullies and the subject of ridicule with the popular cliques at school. And as much as he would have loved to have a dated a girl, the pretty yet stuck up princesses that attended his high school alma mater never gave him the time of day.

However, being a social outcast didn't stop Gabriel Gray from excelling academically. Thanks to his exceptional intelligence he had always received high marks in all of his classes, especially in the subjects of math and science. Sadly, his dreams of going to college were first curtailed and then squashed altogether when he was forced to take over Martin's shop full-time in order to support his mother after she got laid off from her job. Although she appreciated the money the business had produced, Virginia continued to cruelly belittle her "son" for taking up a profession that she considered to be too common and lowly. Right up to the time of her death, Mrs. Gray had considered her son to be her greatest love and yet her biggest disappointment because in her eyes he had never lived up to his potential.

And even after Gabriel had risked so much- his life, his sanity even his very soul- to achieve the prominence, the _specialness_ his mother had always instilled in him to obtain, a horrified Virginia Gray, much like the Dr. Frankenstein of fiction, rejected the very monster she had molded and brought to life.

"Although we've never talked about it, I've always wondered if Gabe, despite his horror and grief, had also felt _liberated_ the moment those scissors accidentally plunged into Virginia's chest," Peter speculated sorrowfully.

As he pursed his lips, he watched fresh new tears flow down Claire's cheeks as she openly grieved. But was she crying over the loss of Gabriel's innocence or her own? Peter wouldn't be surprised if it was a little of both.

_SCSCSCSCSCSC_

As she continued to listen to the unfolding story of Gabriel's sad and complicated existence, Claire found herself empathizing with the man. She also took into account the many times their lives seemed to parallel one another. And that's when Claire slowly but surely came to the stunning and life-changing realization- she _finally_ understood what Sylar had meant when he came to see her that fateful morning in Arlington. All that mad scribbling he had done and the side by side comparisons on the Chalk Board of Destiny (as she had dubbed it). It all made sense now.

They _did_ have so many things in common and it was downright scary - the sense of abandonment, the loneliness, being ostracized by their peers and having parents that could never understand or accept them for who they were. And then there was the all important and undeniable analogous peculiarity. Sylar and Claire were both _immortal._ One by accident of birth and the other by choice yet they were both cursed to walk the earth never changing, never dying trapped in eternal youth while forced by the circumstances of their shared ability to watch each of their friends and relatives age and pass on.

Suddenly, a strong recollection of Sylar's oddball proposal at the Stanton came back with a vengeance:

"_Everyone dies, well, almost everyone. __Papa Petrelli__, __Mama Bennet__, __Mr. Muggles__... _

…_You'll get bored, after like a hundred years of trying to off me, watching all your loved ones drop like flies. You may eventually come to forgive me. Maybe you'll even love me."_

Was he right, would she grow to love him? Or was the fear of being alone forever the driving force behind Claire's sudden sexual attraction toward Sylar?

He had spoken of building bridges between them. Was that what Peter alluded to when he claimed that Sylar had changed his evil ways for her? Was this new life of walking on the straight a narrow an attempt to show her that one day, even if it was in the far distant future, Gabriel Gray could at last be worthy of love, her love to be precise?

The idea of having an undying and powerful mate for the long stretch of eternity was comforting in some respects. But could she actually bring herself to love such a man? Would she even want to?

And now that she knew that Sylar was in love with her, that single fact alone made her own feelings towards him all that much more complicated. Undeniably there was the added element of excitement that came with the sudden awareness of being romantically desired by the very person she had secretly wanted for months. But was her strong attraction enough of a foundation to build a lasting relationship on?

After all, he had killed her parents, Jackie and countless others. And how could she forget how he had _stolen _his immorality in the first place? And if Claire were really honest with herself, there was a part of her (a large part) that still feared and mistrusted the killer she had known him to be.

As Peter brought his story to a close, Claire felt an expectant gaze upon her as he waited for a reaction from her.

But what could she say to the only other person that had been victimized by Sylar time and time again as she had been? Claire and Peter had even lived through the overwhelming grief of losing the one person they had mutually loved when the truth was finally revealed to them. Nathan was dead because of Sylar. There's was no denying that fact. He had vindictively murdered the senator in cold blood effectively burning the very bridges that he purportedly was trying to build.

Uncle and niece had then made a pact and sworn revenge against Sylar.

Except that fate had other ideas on how deal with the killer. Ironically, Peter's dreams had revealed what Sylar was destined to be…and it was up to him to set his one-time nemesis on the hero's path or the lives of millions would have been forsaken. And even more importantly the life of the woman that Peter loved also hung in the balance.

But Parkman's retribution would not be denied. Ultimately the former policeman's grudge led to Sylar's banishment behind The Wall which proved to be a near insurmountable obstacle. Gabriel had been trapped in his most feared nightmare –an agonizing eternity wandering the empty streets of a sprawling and yet lifeless metropolis in solitude. He had been forced to live through the monotonous soul-killing horror for three long years until thankfully Peter rushed in to rescue him.

Claire recalled the countless stories she had been told of the trials and tribulations of the two former enemies. Peter claimed that he and Sylar had spent what was perceived as _years_ fighting each other as each tried unsuccessfully to find a way out of their shared imprisonment.

It was only when Peter finally let go of his hate in the face of Gabriel's humility and honest contrition for his sins that the two men were able to break through the brick and mortar of the imposing fortification created by Matt Parkman's mind.

By the time they had emerged into the real world, her uncle had astonishingly forgiven his brother's killer and together he and Sylar had helped take down Samuel Sullivan, thus saving New York from becoming the world's largest sink hole.

Yet that had been _one_ act of heroism. As far as Claire Bennet was concerned pulling Central Park from the brink of death hadn't even come close to wiping Sylar's slate clean. And when Peter had suddenly announced that he and Sylar were best friends Claire's confusion and anger was compounded ten-fold. She couldn't bring herself to understand the reasons behind Peter's change of heart or why he had chosen to be Gabriel's only advocate…_until now_.

Thanks to Peter's candor, Claire was now fully acquainted with the _entire_ story of the enigma that was Sylar. And in all fairness she could no longer see him as the boogeyman. The mystique that had always surrounded his infamous persona had been demystified. Claire Bennet now viewed him for what he truly was – a man who had been broken, manipulated, and lied to.

He had also suffered through being ridiculed, bullied, and at times had been hopelessly rejected at every turn. A human being could only take so much. Sylar had clearly been born out of an inherent necessity to protect Gabriel Gray from further harm. Survival, fear and a crippling sense of self-loathing had pushed the meek watchmaker to don the black soulless armor of a killer- a ruthless, merciless murderer.

Yes, Sylar had been all these things and more. But when all had been said and done he was a still just a man. Claire comprehended that fact with perfect clarity. And now that his myth was debunked, Claire didn't have any more reason to fear him.

And now that the trepidation was gone what would happen if she truly _forgave_ him? Would the world implode in itself? Or would the outlook of the eons of time she was meant to live out be less bleak if she had Sylar as her constant companion?

There was only one way to find out.

_SCSCSCSCSCSC_

Giving her uncle a squeeze around his middle, Claire whispered sincerely, "Thank you."

Bewildered and yet strangely relieved Peter hugged her back as he hesitantly replied, "You're welcome, I think?"

Claire released her uncle, raised her face toward his. Through her tears gave him a dazzling smile.

"_Thank you_," she firmly restated then added, "for pulling my head out of ass."

Peter grinned right back at her as he said, "Don't mention it. That's what well-meaning uncles are supposed to do. Now do you understand why I was so upset earlier?"

"Yeah, I guess. You were afraid that with Gabriel feeling the way he does about me, that he was being tortured by my outfit."

"_What_ outfit?"

_Smack!_

Peter's smart-alecky remark had earned him a blow on his right upper arm from Claire.

"Hey, no fair!" he yelled at her over the noise of the still running water.

"What's not fair is still treating me like I'm still a twelve year-old! I may be stuck looking like jailbait for the rest of eternity. But I'm a grown woman now, so don't you forget it!"

"Okay, okay! You win!" Peter laughed. Then he good-naturedly added, "You know you're pretty strong…for a _girl_."

"Very funny, Peter. You watch yourself or I'll punch your other arm," Claire threatened him with a cheesy smile. As she wiped the tears from her eyes with a discarded dish towel, Claire pointed to the sink and said, "I think you better turn that thing off before you have a flood in here."

Heeding her warning, Peter immediately turned around to twist the tap of the kitchen faucet to the "off" setting.

As he came back around his voice took on a more serious tone as he posed the next question , "Hey, Claire. Can I ask you something?"

Setting the towel down back on the counter where she had found it, Claire answered him with a smile, "Yeah, sure anything."

"Are you going to give Gabe a chance?"

"A chance at what?" she inquired feigning innocence the entire time. Claire knew _exactly _what Peter was getting at.

Smirking knowingly at the bottle red-head he smugly replied, "Claire, contrary to popular belief, I'm not as stupid as I look. You may think you're slick. But if I had a dollar for every time I've caught you staring at Gabe's ass I'd be richer than my mother right now!"

"You can't proove a thing!" Claire refuted as she turned red all over.

"Oh, really? I guess I'll just have to bring Emma over here to back me up. She's the one that pointed out what you've been doing for months now. We've even made a drinking game out of it."

"You did _WHAT_?" Claire spat out as her eyebrows shot up to the crown of her head.

"Yep, Em and I take turns predicting how many times you'll stare at Gabe's butt on a given visit. The loser has to take a shot of tequila for each missed guess," Peter explained with triumphant smile on his face.

Claire was rendered absolutely speechless as she tried to fathom just how much her life resembled some fucked up reality show. After full minute of trying to come up with the perfect come-back she managed to gruffly say, "You two are couple of _lushes_ anyway. Don't come looking for me to borrow my power when you have liver failure!"

"Don't worry about it, Claire. He can always get it from me," a familiar rich baritone suddenly rang out.

The minute she heard that voice, Claire froze. Gripped with sudden panic her heart rate quickly accelerated to the velocity of a scared rabbit.

_No, no, no! Please God, don't let it be him!_

But Claire's worst fears were rightly confirmed when she detected the slim silhouette of one Gabriel Gray from the corner of her eye. She then glanced over at her uncle who presently looked as white as sheet. It was obvious to both of them that they'd just been busted by Gabriel.

_Running water mutes super-hearing? Ah, not likely. Stupid Peter!_

As Claire continued to fume over Peter's terrible miscalculations, she could suddenly feel Gabriel's intense gaze on her. Unfortunately for her, his stare didn't waver for an instant. He smiled evilly as he began to address his roommate in a mockingly upbeat tone, "Hey, Pete. I just wanted to remind you not to forget to take the cookies to the kids tonight, alright?"

Claire wanted to die right there when she heard her uncle take a big gulp of air before he asked, "Uh, Gabe…how long have you been standing there?"

As she braced herself for his answer, the former pom-pom girl was furiously plotting her escape in her head.

After a very pregnant pause, Gabriel Gray finally replied with a frown, "Long enough. Why don't you run along now, Benedict Arnold? The Cheerleader and I need to have a conversation that's long overdue. I'll deal with your _treacherous_ ass later, Petrelli."

Claire didn't even wait to hear what Peter had to say as she instantly sprinted out of the kitchen and into the protective shelter of the utility room. If there was going to be a fall out between the roomies, she wanted no part of it. Once she was inside the laundry facility quickly bolted the door and decided to wait it out.

Besides Gabriel wouldn't dare come after her, right?

Oh, who was she kidding?

As Claire Bennet nervously wrung her hands, she knew without a shadow of a doubt that she was totally doomed.

_TBC…_

A/N – Okay, there it is chapter three. Please show me some love by clicking the little button that says "review". If you do I'll reward you with the most spectacular love scene in the next and final chapter.


	4. Chapter 4

**Laundry Day**

Summary: Claire goes to Peter's apartment one day to do her laundry and runs into Sylar.

Mr. Gray's clairsentience accidentally kicks in when he touches Claire's bedspread causing him to see some very interesting things…

This takes place about two years after the events of a "Brave New World".

Disclaimer: I don't own Heroes or any of its characters. That honor belongs to Mr. Kring and NBC. This story was written for the sole purpose to entertain and amuse my loyal readers.

A/N: Well, my darlings…this is it the final chapter! Again, I wish to warn everyone that this installment will contain content that is meant for mature audiences only. If this is not for you then I suggest you stop reading this right now.

However, if you wish to read on, then you'll be treated to the finest Sylaire love scene this crazy fan-girl has to offer. Enjoy!

**Chapter Four**

_SoHo- New York City, New York – June 7, 2012 _

"Long enough," replied a clearly furious Gabriel Gray. He was currently standing in the threshold that separated the living room from the kitchen completely and utterly dismayed by what he just overheard.

How could this have happened? How could his very best and _only _friend, the man that had sworn to always have his back, just rat him out like that? And to Claire of all people-the very woman that was at the center of his emotional maelstrom. She alone had the power take his heart and shatter into a million pieces that would still beat for her.

Just a few moments ago Gabriel had been in his room minding his own business while trying to quietly masturbate like a normal person. Yeah, he had overheard the argument about Claire's attire. Yet he couldn't be bothered when thoughts of those hip hugging shorts and that tiny red top made him even hornier than before.

So he tried to soldier on with the task at hand. However, before he could make that first crucial down stroke on his dick, Gabriel's enhanced auditory senses had inadvertently detected his _Chatty Cathy_ of a roommate spewing out his one _big secret_ followed by the details of his life story to the Cheerleader.

_What happened to the bro-code, Mr. Big Mouth_, Gabriel furiously wondered to himself.

Needless to say that it didn't take long for his hard on to be diminished as he was roused from his bed feeling thoroughly betrayed, with equal parts of anger and sexual frustration thrown in for good measure. Determined to confront Peter and shut him up, Gabriel had dressed quickly, grunting like a pissed off wild boar as he arbitrarily pulled on a clean pair gray sweat pants followed by a dark blue T-shirt adorned with white bold letters that read N.Y.F.D.

He then telekinetically flung the door open and stalked out of his bedroom, forgoing his glasses. Gabriel was so incensed that he failed to drag a comb through his still wet hair which now stuck up in odd places as if he had a head full of barbed wire. But as he about to storm into the kitchen to put a kibosh on his tell-all biography, Gabriel stopped short of entering when he heard Claire suddenly burst into tears.

_Oh my God, she's crying…over me?_ Intrigued by this startling development Gabriel decided to conceal his presence from the occupants presently in the kitchen until the right moment presented itself. Pressing his back against the wall he quietly listened in on the rest of the exchange.

As he eavesdropped, Gabriel he had been forced to relive some the most unpleasant memories from his past while other details of the conversation made him more solemn and reflective of everything he had been through.

It was strange hearing about his own life from Peter's perspective, especially since the story, as it was being relayed to Claire, seemed too fantastical to believe. If he hadn't actually lived through those experiences, Gabriel might have had a hard time accepting the truth himself.

But what he found most amazing about this scenario was the glaring fact that Claire _wanted_ to know about him. And when he heard her ask her uncle not to hold anything back no matter how terrible or embarrassing, Gabe's heart had almost stopped beating for a bit. Even more remarkable to him was the fact that she didn't appear to be disgusted by anything she had heard, even after every skeleton in Gabriel's carefully guarded closet had been revealed to her.

As it turned out, Claire-Bear had a few secrets of her own. And if the echoes of her nocturnal self-love sessions from her bedding weren't bad enough, it was all the ex-serial killer could do to keep from laughing out loud when Peter mentioned the drinking game.

_So it wasn't my imagination? Claire's been staring at my ass this whole time? That little sneak! Well, looks like those Buns of Steel workouts have finally paid off, _Gabriel thought proudly.

When things had finally quieted down Gabriel stepped away from the wall and into the threshold. As he stared daggers at Peter Petrelli, his voice had rung out loud and clear, "Don't worry about it, Claire. He can always get it from me."

When he saw Peter's stricken face turn pale and sickly Gabriel was delighted.

_Good, let him be scared. Fucking little snitch, he probably thinks I'm gonna tear his tongue out!_

If looks could kill, the Italian Eagle Scout would've dropped dead by now. In all honesty though, Gabriel Gray didn't necessarily _wish_ for the death of his friend. But he probably wouldn't have minded exacting some serious bodily harm on Peter just to teach him a lesson.

Next Gabriel roved his rapacious gaze around the room until it locked onto a very self-conscious looking Claire. His dark glittering eyes never wavered from his mark as he told Peter in a calm and even tone, "Why don't you run along now, Benedict Arnold? The Cheerleader and I need to have a conversation that's long overdue. I'll deal with your _treacherous_ ass later, Petrelli."

Just then Claire unexpectedly shot off like a bullet straight into the utility closet, quickly shutting and locking the door behind her.

Gabriel just shrugged his shoulders, not particularly surprised by her actions.

_Foolish girl_, he thought as he fixedly stared at the closed door, _you think a simple deadbolt can keep me out? Think again, sweetheart!_

"Gabe, look let me explain…" Peter began as he tried to placate his friend.

Gabriel meanwhile turned his focus back on Peter. But when the reformed criminal saw a single bead of nervous perspiration slowly trickle from empathic man's brow, he took it as a sign of culpability.

"Save it, Pete. I know what you're going to say," Gabriel seethed between clenched teeth. He wasn't really mad at Peter anymore. He just wanted to see the little bastard _squirm_ for awhile.

"No, you don't!" Peter exclaimed. He took two cautious steps away from the sink before he admitted, "Okay, so I told Claire you love her. And I might have gone a little overboard with your memoirs."

"_Overboard_, Petrelli? You think you went a little overboard? I'm surprised you didn't mention how I had such a crush on my third-grade teacher, Mrs. Kowalski, that I brought her a fucking red delicious apple every morning. Or how I cried the first time I saw the end of Old Yeller? Oh, I know, what about that time I tried to serenade the first girl I ever fell in love with only to have her father throw a bucket of ice cold water on top of my head in the middle of winter!"

"Really, dude? Wow, you tried to _serenade_ some chick?"

"She wasn't _some chick_," Gabriel defended himself as he rolled his eyes. "Her name was Becky Rosenbaum and she was the most beautiful girl in my sophomore class. And I'll have you know I have an _excellent_ signing voice! I just don't sing around you because you're an _asshole_ and as it turns out a _blabbermouth_!"

Wearing an incredulous expression on his face, Peter Petrelli just stared out at his roommate for about a fraction of a second. Then to Gabriel's astonishment, his former enemy suddenly broke out into peals of gut-busting laughter.

"_Blabbermouth?_" Peter managed to ask between guffaws as he wiped the tears from his eyes. He then sniggered, "I haven't heard that word since _I_ was in the third-grade."

At first Gabriel was downright livid with his friend for laughing his ass off at his expense. But after a while Peter's mirth proved to be way too infectious. As he felt his sour mood just melt away Gabriel soon joined Peter in his frivolity, laughing harder and longer than the well-meaning empath.

For the next ten minutes or so the two men continued to chuckle and chortle like a couple loons until Peter clapped a hand on Gabriel's back signaling him that it was time to stop.

"You're so lucky I _like_ you, Petrelli," Gabriel professed through a labored lungful of air. "If it'd been anybody else, I would've _fried_ their miserable ass."

Meanwhile as Peter turned around to grab a couple bottles of water out of the fridge, he uttered with some left over amusement, "Oh, please. You couldn't hurt a fly, even if you wanted to."

As he handed one of the cold plastic beverage containers to Gabriel, Peter's expression grew serious as he said with a somber tone, "Look, I know that you and Claire have to clear the air and all. Just take it easy on her, alright? She's probably still processing everything I've told her about you."

Gabriel had already twisted the cap off his bottle and taken a good long swig of water. After his thirst was quenched he moved the bottle away from his moist lips and said with a less-than-reassuring smile, "Don't worry, Uncle Pete. I'll make sure she's okay."

Peter nearly grimaced at the sight of that cocksure grin as he uncomfortably countered, "That's what I'm afraid of." He then decided to drown his anxieties regarding his niece by chugging down the entire contents of his _Dasani _bottle.

And as Gabriel took another gulp of water, he nonchalantly glanced up at the wall clock perched high above Peter's head. Naturally, it had been calibrated to keep accurate time, like every other chronometer in the apartment, thanks to him.

"Uh, I hate to tell you this, buddy," he suddenly announced to Peter. "But you've only got twenty-two minutes before your shift starts."

"Holy shit!" Peter cried out. Throwing the now empty water bottle into the correct recycling bin, the paramedic rushed out into the living room to hurriedly gather up some fresh supplies for his first responder kit. After placing all of the necessary materials into his bright red EMT bag, he hoisted the black strap of the heavy carrier over his shoulder.

As he was sprinting towards the front door, Peter suddenly remembered to scoop up his discarded uniform jacket off the floor. Once he did that, he resumed his attempt at a hasty exit. However, before he could make it out of the apartment he felt an annoyingly strong tug on the back of his shirt collar holding him back.

"Gabe, stop it! I'm going to be late!" Peter shouted at the man that had telekinetically halted him in his tracks.

Gabriel, who had quickly emerged from the kitchen with his left hand raised to momentarily restrain Peter, reminded him of the following fact, "Yo, Pete…you _forgot_ the cookies." The taller man then mercifully relinquished the unseen grasp on his roommate.

Once Peter felt his mobility return, he was relieved. And as he turned around to accept the plastic Tupperware container filled to the brim with the homemade baked goods, Peter smiled sheepishly.

"Sorry. I just can't be late again or Harrison will have my ass," Peter explained.

Gabriel immediately understood Peter's concerns and sympathized with him. Bill Harrison was the EMT captain of New York's 57th Fire Brigade which made him Peter and Gabriel's boss. He was also a brash, overweight loudmouth and an obnoxious drunk with a mean streak who enjoyed pulling rank whenever he could. Worse of all Bill _hated _Peter because of his family name and his pretty boy looks. And Gabriel knew that Harrison would love nothing more than to see Petrelli out on his ass.

"Hurry up and get out of here then. I guess it's a good thing you swiped super speed from Edgar last week, huh?"

Peter smirked knowingly at his friend, "Yeah, I guess so. See ya later!" He then sped off in a great blur distorting the air and space surrounding the apartment. The window curtains flapped and fluttered as a stack of unread mail, which rested on the coffee table, suddenly flew up to form miniature cyclone aided by a gust of wind. The letters whirled about in a precise counter-clock rotation for about a minute and half until the airstream died down allowing the correspondence to land haphazardly onto the floor.

Gabriel sighed as he surveyed the mess left in Peter's wake. His inner neat freak was just dying to clean it all up. But he knew that household chores would have to wait since there were more pressing matters that needed his immediate attention.

Running his fingers through his messy dark hair he turned his sights on the kitchen. As he honed in on the closed door that served as the final barrier keeping him from the Cheerleader, Gabriel Gray smiled wolfishly.

"Ready or not Claire, here I come."

_SCSCSCSCSCSC_

Claire Bennet stepped away from the locked door that not a moment ago she had an ear pressed up against. She'd been trying to listen in on the argument between her Uncle Peter and his roommate, Sylar.

_Or was it Gabriel now?_

Yeah, it was definitely Gabriel. It just somehow felt wrong to refer to the man as anything else.

Moments earlier she had tried her best to distinguish the heated words the two men had exchanged with one another. But due to the door's sturdy wooden construction, Claire was only able to pick up a phrase or two like "Old Yeller" and "serenade" until her ears took notice of the most baffling sound ever.

When Gabriel and Peter had started loudly braying like two out of control hyenas, she was momentarily convinced that they had both lost their minds.

_What's so goddamned funny_, she had worriedly speculated. Then everything grew quiet…_too quiet_. And she didn't like it, not one little bit. She much preferred the clamor of a quarrel, no matter how ominous sounding it was.

Like her dad always used to say, "Noise prepares you for what's coming around the corner, Claire-Bear. Don't you ever forget that, okay?"

But the eerie vacuum of silence did nothing of the sort. The lack of sound only increased a person's sense of dread and allowed their imagination run wild with an infinite number of scenarios all involving death and dismemberment.

The present situation Claire found herself in failed miserably to lessen her fears. And it was all so creepily familiar. Here she was hiding out in yet _another_ small contained space from the one person she couldn't seem to get away from.

_SCSCSCSCSCSC_

The first time Claire played this twisted game of hide-and-go-seek had been the day Sylar came for her power. She had barricaded herself inside her mother's pantry, butcher knife in one hand while the other had wrapped Mr. Muggles' chain-like leash around the door handles in a futile attempt to keep the killer out.

Thinking back on it, Claire never did understand why Sylar didn't just blast through the door with one of his many powers. He just kind of rattled it a little (scaring the shit out of her in the process) as he tugged on the knobs. And then he just stopped.

_Weird..._

The next instance had been at Arlington. She had just stuck a pencil in his eye before she made her narrow escape to go find Gretchen. But when she finally did, Claire and her dorm mate were soon assaulted by the unexpected debris of shattered glass. Sylar had blown out the windows out in an attempt to ferret out both girls. The super-powered attack had forced the two friends to seek refuge in the first secure place they could find, a janitor's closet.

Shockingly, Claire soon discovered that the game of cat and mouse took on a whole new meaning when the _cat_ decided to conceal its true identity from the mouse. She was still haunted by the memory of seeing "Gretchen" suddenly morph into Sylar.

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And now she found herself under siege yet again inside the stifling claustrophobic environment of Peter's utility/laundry room as she anticipated _what _exactly? Would the declawed boogeyman breakdown the door? And once he did what would he do? Would he kill her, kiss her or throw all caution to the wind and fuck her senseless?

The expectation was driving her crazy as she mulled over all of these possibilities. Although, the very thought of a predatory and single-minded Gabriel violently pulling the door off its hinges _just to get to her_ turned Claire on immensely. As she pictured this scenario in her head she could feel the warm and titillating stirrings of sexual desire coiling itself deep below her belly as her panties dampened and her nipples grew hard.

However, judging from Gabriel's angry scowl, surely sex would be the _last_ thing on his mind. He more than likely wanted to confront her…but for what? Getting her uncle to divulge his deepest, darkest secrets was hardly a crime, right? And besides, now that she knew the truth about his life and of his love for her what did Claire really have to fear anymore- _unless_, she was afraid or unwilling to scrutinize her own feelings?

She wanted him. Of that much she was certain right now. But could there more beneath the molten surface of her lust? Were there genuine feelings of camaraderie and kinship to consider? Did the fabled _connection_ Gabriel had alluded to on more than one occasion truly exist between them? Considering everything she knew now, perhaps it did and she was just too chicken-shit to admit it.

Or could Claire's fear and denial be attributed to familial loyalties that no longer existed? Nathan was gone and both Angela and Noah had betrayed her, so what allegiance did she owe to any of them? Peter was the only person she counted on these days and she already knew his opinion on the matter.

Analyzing her feelings further did Claire want to avoid the harsh criticisms of others should she decide to forgive a man with so much blood on his hands? Perhaps it was for the most obvious reason of all: Claire didn't want to deal with the self-recriminations and doubt. After all she was her own worst critic always agonizing and over-analyzing all of her life's most crucial decisions.

And this latest choice she had to make was going to be the most significant one of all.

Forgiving Gabriel Gray would not be easy, of that Claire was certain. But if she really thought about it…_anything_ in life worth doing would never be simple or without risk.

And yes, she would be taking a risk, a _huge_ one. But then so would Gabriel. After all, Claire was fully aware that he was the vulnerable one in this situation. One word from her could make him or break him so she needed to tread carefully.

Strangely enough she suddenly felt a surge of confidence that empowered her to cast off all fear and face her demons once and for all. After all, she'd walked through fire, had bullets riddle her body, survived Ted Sprague's nuclear blast and resulting radiation poisoning and she even survived being scalped by Sylar without a single scrape to show for it.

If Claire could withstand all of those harrowing events then she could certainly handle one lovesick guy with serious Mommy issues. She could do this. Claire would face Gabriel Gray head on and together they would tackle whatever issues they still had between them.

With her mind made up Claire squared her shoulders and then reached to unlock the deadbolt. But just as she was about to twist the lock open she heard a tentative knock followed by the soft _vibrato_ of Gabriel's voice on the other side of the door.

"Claire, could you please open the door?"

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Needless to say Gabriel was stunned when the door to the utility room suddenly swung open to reveal a serene looking Claire. Cautiously, he watched her as she stepped aside to grant him access into the laundry room. Yet Gabriel couldn't move a muscle. He just stood there, dumbfounded.

Truthfully, he had half expected her either to flat out refuse his request or emerge from the laundry room breathing fire with talons extended ready to claw his eyes out.

But if he lived to be a million, he never would have anticipated seeing the unruffled expression she now wore on her beautiful face.

The verdant eyes that always reminded Gabriel of a lush meadow on a spring morning looked upon him now with some degree of expectation. And he immediately noticed that her gaze lacked its usual deep set abhorrence and trepidation. And what was even more amazing was that the corners of her pouty full lips were slightly curved up into the semblance of a smile.

This was an incredible occurrence. It hardly seemed real. But by God and all of his angels it was.

Somehow, someway Claire Bennet, the object of his unrequited love and all consuming obsession was actually _smiling_ at him. At _him_- the meek watchmaker turned killer that had been her nightmare for years while he only dreamed of her. Could it be that she was finally starting to see the man behind the mask of the monster he had once been?

Suddenly he was stricken by his old insecurities.

_Impossible, get real Gabriel! A girl like her would never look at a geek like you,_ said the cruel little voice inside his head_._

He knew all too well the source of that taunting voice which had been a hindrance his entire life. It was raspy and pitiless, and sounded very much like a distorted version of the late Virginia Gray. Gabriel closed his eyes against the mental onslaught as the ghost of his greatest tormentor continued to browbeat him into submission.

_Look at yourself, boy…all tall and gangly with nothing to offer any woman. All you've ever done is kill and steal what never rightfully belonged to you in the first place. You knew better than that. I didn't teach you to be a dirty little thief. _

_You must have gotten those criminal tendencies from your father, your REAL one. What a horrible man he was and you turned out just like him! Yes, you did! _

_You think you're special, you think you're someone of worth because you can do a few parlor tricks? Think again, boy. You're a loser and Claire will NEVER forgive you!_

Gabriel meanwhile struggled to push back the tide of negative emotions to prevent the reawakening of the Hunger. As hot, wet tears of anguish slipped past his closed eyelids and rolled down his narrow face his battered psyche suddenly stood up and shrieked at the specter of his lost childhood, _**Shut up, Mother! Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP! **_

And then just when he thought he was finally losing his grip on reality, Claire Bennet, God bless her, threw him a much needed life-line.

"I forgive you Gabriel…"

There they were- four simple words that had been uttered so softly that Gabriel scarcely heard them at all. But heard them he did, all thanks to a cute 7-year old little girl he had rescued from a car accident roughly three months ago.

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_Northbound Interstate 95 near the Trans-Manhattan Expressway- March 10, 2012_

The collision had been a bad one. And from what Gabriel later learned the driver of the first car had been going the wrong way down I-95 at about 100 mph. The bastard had been drunk with no business behind the wheel. Thankfully he had died on impact. If the intoxicated asshole had lived he would have had a super-powered paramedic to contend with.

The passengers of the other vehicle, a mother and daughter, had miraculously survived but had been trapped inside the confines of their mangled car. It took the Jaws of Life to get them out. But once they were free, Gabriel and his partner Jeff worked quickly to administer first aid.

While Jeff had treated the mother for some superficial abrasions and contusions, Gabriel checked the vital signs of the child. His intuitive aptitude had immediately told him that the girl had suffered no serious trauma, a fact that was later confirmed by the instruments of his trade. Thank God.

The girl had been shaken however. And who could have blamed her? She had been through a pretty horrific ordeal. So Gabriel decided to talk to her to put her fears to rest.

"Hi, my name is Gabriel. What's your name?" he'd asked with a smile.

"Mimi," she shyly answered. Then she added, "It's my birthday today."

"Happy Birthday, Miss Mimi. How old are you today?"

"Seven."

Gabriel softly whistled with faux astonishment before he said, "Wow, you're practically a young lady."

Mimi giggled at him as she was instantly put at ease. Thankfully, her relaxed demeanor made Gabriel's job go that much smoother.

After he examined her heartbeat with a stethoscope he declared, "Well, I'm happy to report that you're going to be just fine."

"And Mommy?" she had wondered desperately obviously very worried for her caregiver.

With a gentle touch Gabriel brushed the auburn bangs away from her bright blue eyes as he kindly reassured her, "Mommy's okay too. She's just needs her cuts clean up, that's all."

Relieved by his answer, Mimi grinned sweetly at her rescuer. "I like you Gabriel, you're nice."

Hearing those genuine words of acceptance from such an innocent source had almost made him teary-eyed. And then he thought that if a little child could see the good in him then there was hope that maybe one day Claire would too.

"Thank you, I think you're also very nice, Mimi. Now let's get you ready to go to the hospital, okay?" Gabriel said as he squeezed her tiny hand.

Mimi had responded quietly, "Okay."

"That's a brave girl." He then signaled to Jeff that Mimi was ready to be loaded onto the ambulance where she would be taken to Mt. Sinai's as a precautionary measure.

However, before she had been carted away she told Gabriel something that should have piqued his interest right then. But at the moment he had been concentrated on doing his job.

Mimi claimed that she had heard the other car careening down the highway, many miles from where the site of the accident eventually happened.

"I tried to tell Mommy to get off the expressway, but she wouldn't listen to me," the precocious 7-year old had said with certitude.

Funny thing was he didn't even realize he had gleaned super-hearing from Mimi until he heard the mice inside the walls of the entire apartment building stomping around like elephants later on that night.

The significance of that chance meeting with a fully manifested child made him realize two things:

_One_ – he had obtained a lost ability in the most compassionate way possible, something that Sylar had been incapable of doing all those years ago

_Two_- he and Peter needed to buy a serious arsenal of mouse traps.

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Claire's declaration of absolution suddenly made a world of difference to him as they annihilated the crippling affects of the past once and for all. Slowly, Gabriel dared to open his tearful eyes to look upon the face of the woman he loved.

She was still smiling at him only this time more openly as concern clouded her eyes in direct contradiction.

"Gabriel, are you okay?" she whispered gently. Claire then warily shifted forward to place a comforting hand on the closest appendage available to her, Gabriel's hairy forearm.

Her words, her touch were like a soothing salve calming the aching wounds that years of neglect and abuse had left on his heart.

"S-say it again, Claire," he pleaded hoarsely. The sound of his own voice sounded alien to Gabriel, it was an unrecognizable rasp filled with need and longing. And yet he hedged forward forcing his larynx to make one more verbal appeal.

"_Please_?"

Claire's breath was stolen away by the dark brown depths of Gabriel's eyes staring down at her. And she was suddenly overwhelmed by everything she saw in that all-consuming gaze. There was a flicker of hope, first and foremost. Yet, in that same instant she perceived honesty so sincere that it spoke volumes of the man's integrity. And then of course there was his ferocious desire which burned hot and bright with such intensity Claire virtually thought her body would be set alight.

Yet, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that at the crux of Gabriel Gray's myriad of emotions there was one single sentiment that rose above the rest…_love_.

Pure, unwavering and everlasting love, that's what he was offering her. But was she brave enough to grab onto it and hold on tight? Or would she be like all the others and walk away, discarding his feelings like yesterday's garbage?

Looking at him now, Claire Bennet could only see the man. Yes, Gabriel Gray was super-powered and deadly if need be, but a man just the same- so wonderfully flawed that his imperfections made him human in her eyes.

Instantly she recalled the very first moment they had locked eyes with on one another in that Union Wells locker room. There had been a flash of recognition that passed between them, a fleeting hint of the destiny they would one day share. Claire was certain of it now in retrospect.

Of course she had been too young and petrified to acknowledge the true significance of that event. Besides if someone had told her then that she would actually meet her soul mate while he was dissecting her best friend, she probably would have told them to jump off a cliff.

However, the element of time presently allowed Claire to see things from a different perspective.

True, Gabriel had been a murderer and there was no getting around that fact. But there was also no denying the horrendous experiences and unforeseen circumstances that had lent themselves to create Sylar, his alter-ego. One such event had directly involved her adopted father. Claire had often wondered what would have become of Gabriel if Noah had left him alone? Would he have gone through with his suicide attempt? If Gabriel had died at the end of that rope, then the world would have certainly been saved from Sylar's bloody ramapage. And Claire would have been spared ever having known him.

And yet the sudden thought of his nonexistence from her life made her incredibly sad.

After all Gabriel was the only person she knew that had accepted her at face value, and seen her as a true equal. And while others may have treated her as a societal liability, a fragile commodity or a shameful family secret, Sylar, in his own morbid way had always encouraged her to just be herself. He also never lied to Claire although the brutal truth was sometimes a very bitter pill to swallow.

But most important of all she knew now that he loved her _unconditionally_ for who she truly was and not in spite of it.

Tilting her head up Claire ensnared the dejected Gabriel within her luxuriant gaze. Next she slowly raised her hands to eventually cup his troubled face within her loving grasp as Claire decisively restated, "I forgive you."

Gabriel, overwhelmed with raw emotion, allowed his tears to flow more freely as he shakily smiled with gratitude. But just as he was about to voice his appreciation for Claire's absolution, the Cheerleader suddenly lifted herself on her toes to merge her mouth to his.

At first he did nothing. How could he when the unexpected sensation of Claire's tender kiss had rendered him immobile? But as her fingers caressed his face and her supple moist lips continued to brush against his, Gabriel soon felt his unexpressed passion unfurling all at once. With his heart beating fast from excitement and fear he decided to slightly deepen the kiss to see how Claire would react.

When he heard that sweet little groan come from deep inside her throat it was all the encouragement he needed. Feeling emboldened, Gabriel swiftly reached up to pluck the hated scrunchy away from her head to free Claire's long scarlet locks.

_God, how I love her hair!_

He quickly showed his appreciation for the flowing lustrous tresses by reverently running his long fingers through them. Meanwhile the kisses grew more heated and intense between them when lips parted and tongues intertwined. Gabriel thought he was ready to explode right then from the rush he felt from the kisses alone.

Suddenly the need to feel Claire closer to him took hold. Moaning throatily into her mouth he moved his arms down so he could enclose them tightly around Claire's tiny waist. He then slid his large flattened hands down the small of her back until they ended up on the generous swell of her firm _derrière. _Then in a fit of uninhibited desire he hauled her up by her ass to press her curvaceous little body against his.

Claire meanwhile had yelped loudly, pleasantly surprised by Gabriel's show of manly strength. She liked a man that took charge and knew exactly what he wanted. And right now it was evident to her, judging from the _enormous_ bulge rubbing against her core, that Gabriel Gray wanted her.

And that mouth, that _glorious_ mouth of his that continued its sensuous assault against hers. His lips and tongue worked frantically in conjunction to stupefy Claire with scorching soul-stealing kisses that made her crave him even more. Naturally, it didn't take her long to comprehend that she had _seriously_ misjudged his make-out prowess the day he had forced his lips upon hers in that empty classroom at Arlington. That kiss, by comparison, had been a cold and calculated maneuver intended to ascertain her innermost secrets and desires so he could use them against her.

But now she could sense that there were no manipulative motives behind Gabriel's ardor. His actions this time were fueled by obsessive rapturous devotion. And Claire practically swooned at the mere thought of it.

Instinctively, Claire had already wrapped her legs around his middle, anchoring herself against his hard muscular frame as they continued to wildly kiss one another. Slipping her fingers away from his face she then threaded them through his luxurious dark brown hair. Apparently he liked to have his scalp massaged because the minute she started to do just that, he began to contentedly purr like a pampered feline.

It was at this juncture that Claire suddenly realized they had not come up for air, not once, since they started kissing. She quickly deduced that their diminished need for a continuous supply of oxygen was attributed to their incredible regenerative ability. Even so, regeneration or not, she felt the need to momentarily break away from him.

Gabriel groaned as he mourned the loss of her lips but he soon allayed his dissatisfaction by pressing his mouth to the supple flesh of her neck as his fingers kneaded and caressed her buttocks.

Cradling his head against her skin, Claire sighed as her back arched the moment she felt him slowly drag his lips and tongue down her throat. When he started laving at her, paying special attention to her pulse point with open-mouth kisses, her toes curled as she began to pant uncontrollably.

"Want you…_now_," she whispered hotly in his ear.

Hearing her say she wanted him prompted Gabriel to pull Claire closer to his sensitive body, until they breast to chest without an inch of space between.

"Bed?" he urgently asked with a monosyllable grunt as he continued to worship her neck. Gabriel didn't want to waste words when his mouth could be used to pleasure Claire.

"_No,_" she refuted with a whimper as she withdrew her body while her hands released their hold on his head so she could claw at his T-shirt. "No time…need you now, Gabriel!"

A dilemma had indeed presented itself. Claire didn't want to wait and quite frankly neither did Gabriel. As far as he was concerned he had waited long enough for this to happen. But she didn't want go to his bedroom and Peter's was definitely out of the question. And so was the kitchen for that matter. The living room was a possible option but then they'd risk upsetting Peter's precious babies, Bert and Ernie. And God forbid that should happen. He'd never hear the end of it from Peter, that's for sure.

There was only one alternative, it was the obvious choice, consequences be damned.

Without any preamble he tightened his grip on Claire before he swiftly moved them into the utility room. Coherent thought quickly failed him the second he felt the flicker of Claire hot tongue against the outter shell of his ear. But at least Gabriel had enough sense to use TK to shut and lock the door before setting her down on the first flat surface he came across, the closed top of the Maytag washing machine.

Once her ass hit the cool smooth metal expanse of the appliance Claire wasted no time in spreading her bare legs, silently inviting Gabriel to stand between them which he did. When their pelvises made contact Claire could feel how hard he was for her.

_Jesus, he's practically throbbing! _

And she wondered just then if he could sense how soaked her panties were or how badly her core ached for him. Meanwhile her fingers had already latched themselves onto the soft cotton material of Gabriel's shirt. She then looked up at him through hazy, lust-filled eyes drinking in the visage of his mussed up hair and swollen lips.

Not able to withstand the wait a moment longer Claire gruffly commanded, "Off…take it off!"

Gabriel promptly obeyed, nearly ripping the garment away from his body leaving his torso bare for Claire's inspection. Her hands immediately reached out to touch his chest. Keeping his own hands at his sides, he watched breathlessly as her nimble fingers caressed his skin and then ran through his chest hair.

"So _hairy_," Claire murmured appreciatively. "I had no idea you had this much fur on you until I saw you that day on the beach. I _love_ it."

But just as he was reveling in Claire's sensuous touches and words of praise, she nearly startled him right out of his gourd when her mouth had surreptitiously fastened onto one of his nipples and began to suckle.

_Oh my fucking Christ! _

It wasn't that act itself was an unpleasant one, God no. It's just that no one had ever done that to Gabriel before, not even the more sexually adventurous Elle. He had always just assumed that that particular form of sexual stimuli was meant exclusively for women. In his ignorance perhaps, he had never fathomed that breast play could be just as arousing for men. But Gabriel soon learned that the experience was highly erotic, especially when it was Claire flicking her pink little tongue across his responsive flesh.

As she continued to lick and suck him, he felt as Claire's fingers ran up and down the sides of his well-defined torso. Gabriel groaned unabashedly as his penis grew even harder still, if that were possible. He had to admit that Claire was incredible so far- she made him so intoxicated with lust. But as much as he was enjoying the foreplay Claire had initiated, it was too one-sided.

Gabriel needed to touch her, feel her and _taste _her in return or he would absolutely die with want. So with a frustrated growl he pushed her away and then he reached up with both hands up to savagely yank away the alluring red top from her body, tearing the fragile material to shreds in the process.

When her creamy bouncy breasts finally came into view, Gabriel whispered in awe, "So beautiful." He then quickly cupped them within his calloused grasp, all the while loving the feel and weight of them in his hands.

Claire closed her eyes and groaned adoring the way he paid homage to her tits by caressing the milky flesh surrounding the aureolas before honing in on the rosy hued tips. Claire continued to pant and moan as Gabriel proceeded to pinch and milk each nipple until they were painfully erect and hypersensitive.

"_Yesssssss!_" she hissed as she unconsciously placed a hand between her legs to cup her denim covered mound.

Claire was being systematically driven out of her mind. And she loved every second of it. She could have never have imagined that the reality of being with Gabriel was going to be so much better than any fantasy she could have dreamed up.

However, in spite of this realization, she couldn't help feeling a bit peeved that he had turned her favorite summer top into a useless rag.

"You ripped my shirt!" she exclaimed with mock indignation as she kept her eyes shut.

Gabriel meanwhile gave her a devilish little smirk as he said huskily, "Don't fucking care! Now come here, I want to return the favor."

Before Claire could figure out what he meant, Gabriel's hands found their way to her hips. He then forcibly pulled her toward him as his head swiftly descended to her heaving bosoms. When his wet hot mouth latched onto the taut pink nipple of her left breast, Claire's eyes flew open as she let out a high-pitched whine of pleasure.

"Oh, my God, that feels so, so good!" Gabriel heard her cry out as he continued to suckle the stiff rosy peak as if his very life depended on it. He then kissed his way to the other bountiful mound to lavish it with the same attention.

In the meantime, Claire had managed to snake one hand between them so that she could stroke his rock hard erection through his pants. She marveled at the way his dick responded to her touch as it pulsed and throbbed beneath the fleece material.

"Jesus, you're so _hard_," she wantonly gasped.

"Only for you baby, only for you," he murmured against the saliva coated skin of her breasts.

He then said without realizing, "God, I love you, Claire!" Afterward, he resumed to hungrily stimulate her nipples as if nothing were amiss.

Surprisingly, Claire wasn't the least bit troubled by Gabriel's sudden admission. In fact his heartfelt confession only seemed to inflame her excitement even further. And she knew then that the moment had arrived. This was it, the point of no return. And she couldn't wait a minute longer. Claire needed Gabriel to take her, possess her completely, body and soul.

"Gabriel, I want you inside of me, _please_," she begged unashamedly as she boldly slipped her hand inside his pants. Taking a firm hold of his manhood Claire kept her strokes long and steady.

Gabriel couldn't stop from groaning helplessly as he relished the feel of Claire's hand on his cock and the taste of her magnificent breasts inside his greedy mouth. But he knew that if she continued at her current pace he wouldn't be able to fulfill her ardent request. Gently, he extricated her hand away from his member while he relinquished his lips hold on her.

Claire, understanding his actions to be a sign of his readiness, wanted to help the process along by tugging at the elastic waist of his pants. But when he unexpectedly placed his hands on her wrists to stop her, her green eyes glanced up at Gabriel in confusion.

"I don't understand. I thought you wanted this?" she asked with a perplexed expression on her face.

As his thumbs began to caress the inside her wrists, he sighed, "I do want this. God only knows how much! But I need to know something first…"

Claire was alarmed by his somber tone. "What is it?" she asked with concern.

Gabriel refused to answer her however as his cheeks flushed with apparent embarrassment

Assuming that he felt uncomfortable about soiling her virtue, Claire set out to put his fears to rest. "I see what this is about. You want to know if I'm virgin, right?

Oh, sweetie, in case you've forgotten, I am nearly 23 years-old and this is the 21st century. I've had sex before, if that's what you're worried about. Gotta warn you though, my hymen grows back so don't freak out or anything."

Gripping her wrists firmly, Gabriel's eyes bore into hers as he irately said, "This isn't about your virginity, technical or otherwise! I don't care about that!"

Claire's first reaction to his apparent anger was fear, as her basic survival instincts told her to run before things escalated. However, her trepidations came to a halt when she discovered the very same emotion mirrored in Gabriel's expressive eyes.

He was _afraid_, just like she was, but for an entirely different reason. And Claire was almost certain that she knew the rationale behind his apprehension.

Biting at her bottom lip, Claire turned a wary gaze to her would-be lover. Then after a moment's hesitation she asked, "What are you scared of?"

"I don't know," he feebly mumbled as Gabriel suddenly found the floor to be a more interesting thing to stare at.

Well, Claire didn't need to have a built lie-detector to know that his answer was wholly mendacious and unacceptable.

"That's _bullshit_, and you know it!" Claire spat out, channeling her best impression of Sandra Bennet (now Carter). Her mother was the only person she knew that could shame anyone, even a cold blooded bastard like her dad, into telling the truth (eventually).

Again, when he refused to answer, Claire decided it was time to take the bull by the horns. She was going to flip the script on Gabriel. "You know what I think? I think you're afraid that if we go through with having sex that I'll _reject_ you afterward- that I'll walk away and never let you touch me again.

Do you think that I'd be that heartless to do that you? If you think that then you don't know me at all."

Gabriel suddenly lifted his eyes to look at the indignant bare-breasted red-head currently sitting atop his washing machine giving him hell and then some. The situation would have been downright comical if wasn't for green fire radiating from her eyes.

"That's right, look at me, Gabriel. Here I am, half-naked in a closet with _you_, a man that for the last 6 years of my life…"

"…13 years," Gabriel corrected, factoring in the time he spent in the nightmare with Peter.

Claire sneered, "…13 years, whatever! The point is that I wouldn't use sex as a weapon, _ever_! And I don't sleep around either. Besides something this _special, _this intimate should never be sullied by revenge. I'm here with you because I finally realized what I should have known all along."

As Gabriel's eyes stared intently into hers he asked with bated breath, "And what's that, Claire?"

Leaning forward, she tenderly placed her hands back on his face and purposefully replied, "You're my destiny Gabriel Gray."

His jaw became unhinged as his eyes bugged out -evidently he was floored by her answer. Yet despite her earnest attempt to convince him of her feelings, Claire could still see skepticism etched across his face. Surely his polygraph ability must have established that she was telling the truth. right?

However, Gabriel didn't appear to be swayed one way or the other. So Claire decided that there was only one thing left to do to abolish Gabriel's misgivings once and for all.

"Kiss me," she suddenly offered. "Go ahead…use the ability you got from Lydia on me again if you don't believe me."

Gabriel although relieved, was still astonished by the fact that Claire had granted her permission. He knew full well how much she hated being manipulated by the powers of others. However, on this occasion, when she decided to make him the exception to her rule, he felt as if he were receiving a rare and precious gift.

Looking into her eyes, he desired nothing more than to lose himself inside the flourishing forest of her irises. Leaning forward to capture her plump lips again, Gabriel whispered fearlessly, "I love you." He then closed his eyes as he passionately crushed his mouth to hers. Almost immediately his mind called upon the deceased painted lady's tactile empathy.

At first, Claire's thoughts and memories were a chaotic jumble, making it difficult for Gabriel to navigate through her cluttered psyche. Naturally he had encountered a multitude of reminiscences at different stages of her life.

Very soon, though Gabriel's intuitive aptitude manifested itself to aid him in sorting through the turmoil of Claire's mind until order was eventually acheived. And as the mayhem died down, the swirling images congealed and solidified to ultimately create a living breathing portrait of Claire's most heartfelt desire. Gabriel's heart thumped wildly as he came face to face with the truth at last.

The intelligent yet somber looking eyes staring back at him were unmistakable, as were the distinctive thick brows and the stubborn razor stubble that adorned the pallid skin of the man's sharp face. Amazingly, the lips of the bow-shaped mouth were uncharacteristically pulled back into a wide happy grin that lacked both malice and hatred. And it was an astonishing sight to behold.

Yet, the most shocking aspect of the vision was the brilliant white aura that surrounded the jubilant expression. Waves of warm shimmering light seemed to glow and ripple extending outward into infinity.

_This is how Claire sees me_, Gabriel suddenly realized. And he was instantly humbled and touched by the extraordinarily beautiful rendering of his very own face. Seeing himself through Claire's eyes looking so blissful and serene only made him love her even more.

How could he possibly begin to express his thanks for the miraculous gift Claire Bennet had just bestowed upon him? Gabriel wasn't exactly sure. But even if it took a thousand lifetimes, he would demonstrate his extreme gratitude for her forgiveness in every word and deed.

Now that his curiosity had been more than satisfied Gabriel continued to kiss her as he slowly withdrew from Claire's mind, reeling back his power until he could no longer sense her thoughts.

When Claire felt the absence of Gabriel's psychic presence she broke their kiss to ask, "Did you find your answers?"

"Yes," he stated simply. He was still too emotionally overwhelmed by what he saw to say anything else.

Claire smiled as her green eyes twinkled with mischief as she said, "Good. Now can we get back the part where we were trying to reenact a prison rape scene?"

Laughing Gabriel questioned her, "What? First of all this room is hardly a prison, Claire. And secondly you can't rape the willing!"

Claire pouted a little as she wrapped her arms around his neck. "Fine," she huffed with disappointment. "Ruin my fantasy, why don't you?"

Quirking a curious eyebrow, Gabriel smirked as he asked, "And which fantasy might that be, Ms. Bennet?"

Shrugging her shoulders Claire answered nonchalantly, "Oh, the one where you're still the big bad criminal locked up in a cell in Level 5 and I'm the sweet innocent little Cheerleader you're trying to corrupt."

He laughed again as he said with surprise, "Holy hell! Do you know how many times I've masturbated to that very same fantasy?"

"Really? Me too!" Claire admitted with an enthusiastic grin. Her smile soon faltered however when she suddenly realized that she had just let the proverbial cat out of the bag.

Gabriel flashed the wickedest smile as he knowingly revealed, "_I know_."

Claire's eyes became as wide as saucers with the sudden awareness that Gabriel Gray was privy to her little secret.

"How?" she breathlessly demanded, fearing what the answer might be.

Her mind of course quickly thought the worst. _Oh, God. He's probably been hovering outside my window spying me every night! _

In the meantime, Gabriel was having a blast watching Claire writhe with shame. But when he saw how upset she was getting, he decided to let his darling little Cheerleader off the hook.

Placing a chaste kiss upon her lips, Gabriel cooed, "Relax, baby. I wasn't stalking you or anything. I kind of accidentally got a read off your bedspread when you threw it at me earlier."

"Huh?" Claire emoted questionably, still not understanding what he was talking about.

"_Clairsentience_ – you know, the ability to discern any object's history by touch. I have your Granny Angela to thank for that one by the way."

"Why would you want to thank her?" Claire asked with a disgusted sneer. Next to her dad, Claire's grandmother was her least favorite person right now.

Placing his big warm hands on the cool skin of her bare back, Gabriel drew Claire in so he could nibble on her neck again.

In between the tender nips and bites he confidently replied, "Because if she hadn't fed me that wonderful ability then I would have never known that her only granddaughter has the _hots_ for me."

Claire playfully pushed him away from her neck as she coquettishly smiled at him. She then wrapped her strong legs around Gabriel's waist, roughly pulling him in so that she could feel his newly resurrected erection against her crotch. She titled her face up toward his and whispered coyly, "Just shut up already and fuck me."

"With pleasure," Gabriel hungrily responded.

_SCSCSCSCSCSC_

_Four hours later…_

Claire Bennet and Gabriel Gray currently found themselves both gasping for air as they tried to recover from their last frenzied coupling. Claire was still bent over the back of the couch where Gabriel had just taken her from behind with such vigor that she was almost certain she wouldn't be able to walk straight for at least a week. She smiled though as she felt the weight of her lover crushing her into the furniture.

Soon after climaxing Gabriel had collapsed on top of Claire's sweaty back in an exhausted but happy heap. Incredibly they'd just wrapped up round number 14. He and Claire had already christened almost every inch of the apartment except for Peter's room. And yet he was more than willing to keep going for as long as Claire allowed him to.

"Thank God for rapid cellular regeneration!" Gabriel jubilantly exclaimed. "No ordinary couple would have had the goddamned stamina to do what we just did. Even so, I'm tired as hell."

Claire giggled, "Speak for yourself, old man. I still have plenty of juice left in my battery. Now get off of me so I can get us some water."

"My very own Energizer Bunny," Gabriel playfully remarked as he placed a sloppy kiss at her temple before obliging her request. As he watched her naked form walk gracefully into the kitchen he smiled not quite believing his good fortune.

"Hey, baby," he suddenly called out, loving the way the endearment just rolled off his tongue. "I'm going to start us a shower, okay?"

"Good," Claire hollered back from the fridge. Then as she made her way back into the living room she asserted, "I'm feeling a little sticky. Besides while we're in there we can christen the shower too!" She then handed Gabriel a bottle of ice cold refreshment.

Gratefully he accepted her offering. And then he thirstily downed the entire 16 ounce bottle of water in one gulp. Feeling reinvigorated Gabriel was about to grab his love by the hand to lead her to the bathroom when the most unexpected thing happened...

The front door to the apartment suddenly swung open to reveal Claire's uncle carrying in several grocery bags.

Gabriel and Claire turned to look at each other in a panic as they simultaneously said in a hushed whisper, "Oh shit!"

"Hey, Gabe," Peter shouted as he shut the door with his foot. His back was still to the living room, completely oblivious to the stark naked couple standing behind him.

Peter prattled on, "Looks like Harrison finally got laid. Anyway, he was in such a good mood he gave me the rest of the night off. So I stopped at Doris' Market and picked up the fixings for pasta puttanesca. It's Claire's..." Peter suddenly stopped speaking in mid-sentence when he finally turned around. When he encountered the shocking scene of Claire and Gabriel in the buff, his eyes immediately widened with surprise as his Italian blood boiled over.

"What the _fuck_? Gabriel, I'm going to KILL you!" Peter growled angrily. Carelessly he dropped the grocery bags down on the floor as murderous intent gleamed in his eyes. With clenched fists, Peter stalked over to where his now EX-roommate was standing to make good on his threat.

"Peter, listen man, it's not want you think..." Gabriel tried to plead his case.

"It's EXACTLY what I think. I _forgive_ you, take you in, call you my _friend_ and this is how you repay me? Well now I'm going to kick your sorry ass!"

But just as he about lay his hands on the man that dared to betray his trust, his niece suddenly threw her nude body in front of his intended target to shield Gabriel from harm.

"Move, Claire. And for Christ's sake, put some clothes on!" Peter demanded as he averted his eyes.

"Don't you touch him! Can't you see what's happened? He loves me, Peter. And I love him right back."

Both men, shocked by Claire's words, turned to look at her as they exclaimed in unison, "_You do?_"

Placing her hands on her hips she stood her ground. "Absolutely. What you did you think, Peter? That you had the market cornered on forgiveness? Well, guess what? I'm in love with Gabriel Gray, now deal with it!"

Gabriel felt a swell of pride as he watched his Claire-Bear defend his honor like a tigress. Admittedly, it was kind of hot.

"Oh, I don't care about _that_," Peter suddenly whined like some petulant child. He then pointed toward the fish bowl sitting on the end-table near the loveseat. "You had sex in front of Bert and Ernie! I told you specifically not to do that. You know how impressionable they can be at this age!"

Gabriel and Claire observed with incredulous disbelief when Peter moved toward the end table so that he could lean over bowl and check on his precious babies.

As Peter cooed to Bert and Ernie, Gabriel warily reminded his friend, "Ah, Peter, you do remember they're _fish_, right?"

Angered by Gabriel's apparent insensitivity, Peter snatched up the glass bowl and then headed toward his room. "Don't listen to him guys," he reassured the fish. "He's just a sexual deviant that used to eat brains. How about some nice food flakes, hmm?"

Peter and the fish then disappeared into his room where he planned to sulk for the rest of the night.

"Do think he'll be okay?" Claire asked worriedly.

"About what? Us or the fish?"

Claire punched him in the arm, "Us, of course!"

Smirking, he moved to embrace her as he replied, "He'll be fine. You do realize of course that with all the _goings-on_ this afternoon, you got absolutely no laundry done."

"That's okay," she laughed snuggling in good and close to his body. "You can help me do it tomorrow morning. That is of course after you make me waffles."

"You're going to spend the night with me?" he asked in amazement.

"I don't see why not. Besides you kind of _destroyed_ my last clean outfit. That's okay though because I usually sleep in the nude..."

Quickly pecking Gabriel on the lips she extricated herself from his arms and then started running toward the bathroom.

"Last one in the shower is a rotten egg!" Claire's gleeful voice trailed behind her.

Gabriel smiled as he watched her go. "That little minx is going to be the death of me!" Of course if she did manage to kill him, he would die a very happy man.

Soon Gabriel was in hot pursuit as he followed the trail set by the incredible woman that he loved and would always love for the rest of forever.

_THE END_

A/N: Okay, that's all folks. And let me tell you that I am totally spent! This is officially the longest chapter I've ever written. It was a difficult endeavor considering all the issues I had with my laptop which forced me to write the majority of this at work.

And I know that's it's probably way too wordy. But I wrote from the heart. I did this for you, my wonderful fans that have encourage me every step of the way with this fic. This story was my love letter to you, and to all of the Sylaire fans that adore this pairing just as much as I do.

I hope that you have enjoyed reading my story as much as I enjoyed writing it.


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